


Bigmouth Strikes Again

by lainx



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Anal Play, Anxiety, Bondage, Diapers, Enemas, Forced Infantilism, Forced Intimacy, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts, bad rep of age play ik, im not quite satisfied tbh? but ill stew over it forever if i dont post it, literally everything is flavored noncon, lots of trauma caused by parents, okay this is not healthy, post op trans male character, presumptuous pop culture/corporation references, this isnt the happiest fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22215835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lainx/pseuds/lainx
Summary: Kaz, completely expectedly, gets sucked into a ridiculous situation caused by his ridiculous actions.Well, at least he gets a bed.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Bigmouth Strikes Again

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear lord, where do I begin. There's a lot that is wrong with this fic. There is a lot of mention/talk/action of the following:  
> Suicide (main character recounts seeing someone dear to him of whom has committed suicide)  
> Noncon (main character cannot experience legal repercussions for physically and sexually abusing another male character, of which he does)  
> Parental trauma (mentally abusive/neglectful parents, recounted through brief memories)  
> And probably some other stuff that I'm missing right now. Please, stay safe and don't read if that's triggering to read. If there are any warnings that I failed to mention, please tell me.
> 
> I do not condone these actions in real life. This is fiction. Age play isn't the same as pedophilia. If you experience the same feelings as Kaz, please seek professional help. I apologise for any pacing issues.

Darkness is all Kaz sees when he stirs. There's something over his eyes, something chaining his wrists to the bed. After a quick tug- his ankles, too. He kind of knows why.

The familiar feeling of a panic attack rises in his chest, but he's got this weird talent of shoving the worst of the feelings down for later, so he doesn't shake. Still, he can't breathe, which kind of sucks. 

Kaz wants to fight against the restraints, but it isn't safe to do so. In the past, he's learned the best thing to do is lie down, easily agreeable (to be highly boring), and let them forget about him. Like his big mouth can allow that, but Kaz wants to cling to that hope.

That hope that he can escape here and finish what he's started. 

There's an odd cushiony pressure around his crotch area and butt, now that he's taking stock of what's on him. God, he wishes he could see what it was. And a thin blanket, too, up to midchest. The air surrounding isn't very chilly, perhaps slightly higher than room temperature. He inaudibly sighs and resigns himself to patience.

*

Kaz had to wait a while, but finally, footsteps begin to draw closer to the room. As they get louder some chatter on the phone does also. Kaz forgets to remember how to breathe, so he just holds his breath and hopes against hope. Logically, though, he's completely fucked. 

"Hmm, yes. Sounds lovely. I must get back to my work now, please… Maybe, maybe. They said it'll be difficult to adjust… Oh, not too cruel, no, no. Thank you. Please. Bye." A pause. It's a male voice, which doesn't ease any of Kaz's concerns. "I love that woman but, anyway- what to do with you?"

Does this stranger know he's awake? Kaz can't restrain his anxiety and fear for much longer, and it's only been building over the past while. He'll begin to shake, and perhaps the person will laugh and mock him. The thought is almost enough to send him into hysterics. 

The stranger moves away, and Kaz can't tell where the fuck he is and something strokes the sole of his foot and Kaz screams and jumps. He's too on edge. Goddammit.

"Good evening, Kaz." Hands work to pull the blindfold off, but they still cup his eyes afterwards. Kaz sees why in a moment- whoever it is is kind enough to help his eyes adjust gradually, even if the lighting's kind of dim. 

"H-h-he…" His jaw isn't working. A simple hello feels beyond him. "Hi?" That'll have to suffice. 

The hands lift completely. "Do you need some water?" A man is revealed- wavy black or dark brown hair, trim beard, maybe a darker complexion. Kind of handsome. Kind of Kaz's type. He nods.

And that's when the third weird thing happens- the first two being his presence here and chained down, of course. Instead of a cup or anything normal, the man comes back with a baby bottle. He holds it down for Kaz to drink out of the nipple and there isn't an ounce of amusement in his expression. There's a blankness, like this is what Kaz should had expected. 

But it's not. But Kaz tries to wiggle away and the restraints are too tight and Kaz can only realistically move his head and neck. "I'd think you would understand what this means," the man murmurs, following Kaz's movement with the nipple of the bottle. "Don't fight me."

Right. Kaz shouldn't fight. Just- just go along with it. Until he can get away. Nod, tentatively drink. The humiliation makes his eyes water, just a little. 

"Hmm, that'll be enough for now," The man says, taking the bottle away after a few sips. "Of course, we'll set up a system for you. So that you drink enough."

Kaz awkwardly coughs to clear his throat. "Um, who are you?" 

The man mumbles something along the lines of 'Jo'. John? A boring name. His next words are a bit more audible. "How are you feeling?"

Panicked. Like the world is ending. Still can't breath. His hands start to twitch and shake of their own volition and Kaz hides them in the restraints as best he can and says, "Fine. How about you?" 

"Good. Excellent, in fact. I've been eagerly awaiting your presence." Probably a lie. "Well, let's get you out of those, hmm? That's just your changing table. I, uh, don't have any restraints in your crib yet, so I had to put you somewhere for the time being."

Kaz's brain skidded to a stop at 'changing table'. "What," he says, voice flat, without thinking.

"Well, you were in that program for naughty boys, right? Not for too long, though." Kaz catches John's eyes flickering down to Kaz's thighs. Kaz kind of realizes that this man sees everything- all the ugly scarring and cuts, included. "Poor, poor thing. I'm so glad I snatched you up. I mean, I'm supposed to rehabilitate you for living in society, but, well, wouldn't it be a shame if I were to keep you for good."

For good. Kaz somehow doesn't thrash in anger at that. He keeps his face impassable as best he can, but his lips twitch in malcontent. Stupid.

"Such a cutie. But! Life will get so much better for you. All you have to do is be a good boy." John smiles and nods and scratches Kaz's crimson hair. 

"Okay." It's not okay. 

"What a good boy. I want to give you a full examination now. And I'll tell you how things will go here."

This time, Kaz can't even muster up words. He just nods.

"Look at you." The blanket gets taken off and folded at the end of the- the changing station. It's so plush that Kaz could easily sleep on it. In fact, he genuinely mistook it for a bed at first. "Now, I did give you a brief lookover when you arrived earlier, but, uh, I don't trust those doctors. Or anyone there where you came from."

"How was I naughty before?" Kaz muses.

John freezes. "Uh, you aren't going to be disciplined for anything that happened before, if that's what you're asking. Unless you murdered someone. In which case I'll turn you in-"

"I murdered someone."

A full-blown laugh. "Oh, my. You?"

"I felt bad, so I tried to do the same to myself. I got caught. I was put here." A complete lie, but it's not like Kaz can help it. Regardless, perhaps it'll be enough to make John think twice. 

"Were you ever convicted?" John asks conversationally. He still seems amused.

"No. They ruled it as an accident." 

John nods and grabs some doctory stuff. This might become one of the weirdest role-plays that Kaz has ever taken part in, except for the fact that there's no consent and no negotiation and a bunch of other things. "Alright. Let's check your heartbeat."

How can he move on from that? Does John know he's lying or something already? That's when Kaz looks down and realizes that he has a diaper on. A really thick one, like what he'd seen in cringe binges before on 8chan or whatever name it has now. Like, a fetish diaper. "What the fuck."

"Kaz, watch your language."

"I'm supposed to be a baby?"

"Not, agh, not quite. We'll figure out how old we want you. But I guess for now."

Kaz is too terrified to be indignant or anything other than blank. "Oh. You get off to this."

"I- yes, but-" John shakes his head. "Not- it's about the control. How I can control you. To make you feel good."

Feel good. He keeps repeating that. Kaz feels like his heart is about to implode. His hands can't stop shaking. Neither can his arms. He can't put away the terror. If John sees, he might go one worse than mockery. Pity. Kaz wants to curl up and cry, then die. 

"It'll be good. We'll learn each other." John still doesn't notice. Somehow. 

John puts a stethoscope in his ears, which isn't good. He lays the vibration catching thing in the middle of his chest, and his eyebrows raise. "Hey, you sure you're feeling alright?" Is that fucking rhetorical?

"Um. A little nervous."

"I read in your case file that you've got a social anxiety disorder. Is that it?"

Honestly, Kaz probably has everything. General anxiety. An ongoing crisis, like that one post off a defunct website. Before the big attempt, he'd researched into mental illnesses, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. It was all useless. "I dunno."

"Aw, you poor thing, you're shaking. What if we saved this for later and we just move onto something else?" Just leave Kaz here. Please, please, please, leave and never come back. 

Kaz clenches and unclenches his hands. His arms feel so, so scratchy, in a way that can never be itched. Once, he scratched until there was blood and then scratched some more, until everything was covered. He had to wear long sleeves for months because of the scarring. "I'll be fine."

"Alright. I'll check out your heart later, though. How does it feel to breath?" 

Not good. At all. "Everything's normal. Honestly, I'm unremarkable, physically speaking."

"It's also mentioned that you had some unidentifiable surgeries in your case files."

Kaz screws his eyebrows together. "No? Oh, wait. Those were a long time ago."

John starts feeling his lymph nodes, working his way down. "Hmm. You know full well that unauthorized surgeries are illegal. For you and your medical practitioner. But they couldn't find anything with a surface level investigation, so they let it go."

"I went out of the country. Paid for it using my mother's money that she willed to me."

A cough of laughter. "God. What procedure?"

There's scars under his nipples, and a scar across his lower abdomen and down the length of his dick, making a capital T shape. Scars around his balls, his taint, even into his anus. All to create-

"I'd rather not say."

"I need to know. I can guess some sort of gender reassignment surgery, but it's better to confirm from you."

It's right now that Kaz realizes exactly what he's done- it's the first time explaining to someone about it. Exactly how dangerous it was. Of course, he overshares like the fucking idiot he is. Bigmouth strikes again, his father would say. "Uh, truth is… I'm not sure. I gave the doctor two hundred thousand and told him to make me into a man. Or kill me if it didn't go well. It… took so many months to recover. I think I went through six major surgeries."

John looks confused. "I never saw anything about hormone replacement."

Kaz almost smiles in amusement. "Western doctors are behind a little bit more than you'd think. The doctor made me some glands or something- uh, maybe from a cadaver? I still don't know that much about my own anatomy."

"I'm surprised it went well."

Wow, Kaz has seriously dug his own grave this time. When he has panic attacks, this always happens. And then his brain catches up again, and then Kaz starts lying a little sloppily to make his audience think he's been lying all along- "Oh, don't worry. I had, uh, sepsis four times. And, he would- actually, nevermind. I paid for it well. Trust me."

John's just been rubbing his torso and arms for a while. Getting a feel. Not like Kaz can stop him. "I'm sorry. But your body can regulate itself fine?" There's something disbelieving in his tone in his first sentence, though. That's good. But, as everyone with an overactive imagination knows: the first step of Lima is L- get one's captor to Like you. Kaz's captor probably hates him already. 

That easy smile hides a burning passion to kill and destroy. More likely than not.

"Yes." 

"Y'know, you've taken this really well." John smiles down at him. "Honestly, I thought I'd have to discipline you by now."

Kaz shivers out of fear. And then he can't stop shivering. "C-could you- blanket-"

The blanket is draped over him. "You got cold?"

"Yeah, your hands." Kaz feels like his body is shutting down from fright. It wasn't his hands.

"Part of the description. I'm a doctor by trade."

Kaz still can't stop shivering. His teeth try to chatter, so he clenches down on his jaw. John puts away the meager medical equipment he took out, and comes back out with a pump connected to a tank and a bottle. Kaz can't make out any more details. He needs his glasses, but those got taken away a couple days ago.

"Uh, so, this is going to hurt. But. It'll be way more convenient in the long run. Originally, I was going to frame this as a punishment, but you've been so good. You're even talking to me." John smiles. He does seem happy. What a cheerful man, about to inflict whatever torture upon Kaz. There's no way to run or fight back. Not even his lies had any realistic impact.

The supplies are dumped on a nearby table, and Kaz gets freed from the restraints. He's lead over to the end of the changing table, where he bends over. 

His throat feels completely closed up, and words cannot come out. John makes up for it. "Have you had an enema before?" 

Kaz shakes his head. Oh, God. Please please please-

"I'm sorry. It's a necessity. Trust me. We're going to clean you out and put something in that prevents defamation. Er, dedication. No, defecation. It's gonna hurt, but I'll make you feel so much better tomorrow, once things settle." Kaz's hand is grabbed, and he's starting to think the tremors are just being ignored. "We'll eat and I'll feed you and you're so good that you'll never have to be punished like this. I mean disciplined. But, yes, we'll make it good. Afterwards."

His hair is tied up and water is poured into a container. "So, we're gonna rinse you out. Nothing too special for the first time. Just water. Oh, uh, we'll have to do this a few times." He continues to mumble to himself as the container fills.

Kaz almost screams and almost throws up.

John seems perturbed with his current position. "So short," he says. And he hauls Kaz up fully back onto the table, back up. A cushion gets placed under his stomach. His cheeks are spread, and the nozzle gets put in delicately. 

The first spurt of water goes inside.

A pat on the rump. "You'll do great, baby." It feels threatening.

And then the water really starts to come in. It hurts and Kaz wants to scream more and more and he has to shit and, five minutes later, he's hauled into the bathroom, ass up. 

He's sat on the toilet seat, and, as he sobs, John holds him and rubs his hair and sweaty back and tells him how good he is. It's surprisingly kind, but, since Kaz doesn't deserve it, he cries harder.

*

He gets another one.

Hurts. 

A lot less waste comes out this time.

"With a bit of luck, maybe the next one will be the last one!" John says, still smiling. Still happy. Still happy with him. 

The pain and John's tenderness together makes Kaz kind of lose his mind and become very, very clingy. 

*

Nothing comes out but water and whatever else gets put in those things. John's bright mood is contagious, almost, and as he's lead back, John says, "You're doing so good. We're almost done."

Oh, yeah. He's going to fill him with something and not let it back out. Kaz doesn't know what. Urged on his back this time, and the nozzle- wait, a far deeper one, it goes on forever- gets pushed back into his aching rim. It's hooked into the pump. To pump into him. How much is going in?

The machine fires up, a low vibration going into his rim and deep, deep into him. So is the liquid, but it's so deep and John's rubbing hands feel nice. It's winding the sensation into a pleasant one. He squeals and tries to cover his face. John holds his hands with one huge one and sits with him on the table. "Does that feel good?"

Kaz nods. His dick is getting hard. 

"Good boy. Right now, let's get you feeling great." Wait- is he- 

A cock ring gets wrapped around the base, and it's hard to weather but then little vibrator bullets get tied to the underside of his cock, all the way up to his shaft. Kaz holds onto John's sleeves and pants when his hands are released.

The vibrators get turned on, and there's something different about all the liquid being forced into him because it feels so good along with the low buzz on his cock. It feels almost like coming, over and over and over again, but nothing is allowed to come out and he isn't allowed to soften.

Kaz is supposed to sit here and take it. He isn't allowed to take charge at all. Right now, it's fine. Preferable, even. Kaz tries to tell John that he loves it, that he loves him, but he can only make unintelligible sounds. 

There's something in the liquid, filling him up, warming his insides, and in John's clever fingers, pinching his nipples and rubbing his shaft. And his voice, telling him about how good he is, how good he's being. It's more than he's ever heard before and Kaz is sobbing but he never wants it to end.

*

The liquid stops pouring in, eventually. The pump gets turned off, and Kaz's hips gets something shoved underneath them, lifting them higher into the air. The vibrator's hums along his dick turn down to the lowest setting. A break? But Kaz thought he would've been allowed to come by now. 

"We're just about done, now. Sweet baby boy." Kaz doesn't smile, but it's a near thing. The nozzle gets tugged out, but something really, really thick comes in. Lots of bumps. It locks into place, his poor, poor rim somehow keeping the huge thing inside. He's so sore. He can't think.

John comes back after cleaning everything up. Kaz's hands are right where they were left. He doesn't have the energy to move them right now. Praises are murmured as the vibrators get removed, then the cock ring. Kaz still hasn't come yet. Still.

He starts whining and making doe eyes, but that only leads to John laughing and saying, "I don't think I want you to come right now. You deserve it, but since I have the ultimate say-so, you won't get to tonight."

All over again, Kaz bursts into tears. He cringes away, voice recovering enough to murmur, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," on a relentless loop. His panic attack, coming in hot. Jesus Christ.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby. Nothing wrong. No need to apologise."

He can't stop. He can't stop crying and he tries to curl away but John stretches him out again and puts ice on his dick. He yelps and lets out a sob. His hands finally come down to cover his mouth, to get some control.

When John comes back from cleaning the supplies, or maybe to grab some more, Kaz is still there in his open diaper, chewing on the heel of his hand. A few new scabs decorate his hands and even his wrists, joining the old. It's stupid and Kaz should stop, especially now that John can see, but he just cannot. There's something in his skin, crawling like a black tar sludge monster, and that's the only way to get it out. He only stops when his hands are ripped from him.

"Baby? Don't do that," John says. "You're hurting yourself."

But it's going to hurt more if Kaz doesn't. His hands get restrained to the changing table, and his diaper is secured around his waist. A few pats, stirring the embers, but John soon leaves. "I'll just be a few more minutes, baby." 

Kaz can't do anything to relieve the tension building. He just settles for kicking, though that doesn't help that much, and then John comes back. He sits on Kaz's legs.

"Hey, what's wrong? Who are you fighting there?"

John mentioned something about restraints for the crib earlier. One can assume the crib to mean his bed. He won't even be allowed to move in his own damn bed. The shaking starts up, like he's on top of an old-timey washing machine. 

"Do you get panic attacks?" John asks, quickly letting him out of the restraints. "What would help you?" 

Kaz just wants to be covered up and left alone for the next century, like a piece of old furniture. He hates the feeling of John rubbing up and down his naked arms, but he can't say anything around the knot in his throat.

"Alright, buddy boy. Let's get you to bed. You were really good, so we might do something extra special tomorrow." 

Kaz doesn't respond. He just drinks the water from the damned baby bottle and lets himself be lifted.

"Uh, honestly, your crib isn't set up all the way. And I don't think the changing table will be that comfortable and- oh! Whoops! I almost forgot!" Kaz gets set down and John rustles through some drawers. "So. The liquid's gonna turn into a solid powder thing in your intestines. It'll convert the solid waste into urine. Amazing, right? But, uh, there's a lot of liquids in your system right now, so I'm going to set up some precautions. You'll be wetting. Like, a lot."

Kaz is made to lie down, and another diaper- puffy and big- is wrapped right on top of the first. And some weirdly crinkly pants that John says will help keep in any possible leaking urine, just in case. 

"Now, uh, we need to replace your nervous habit of self mutilation with a better one. But that'll take time. I do have a temporary solution, though." The big man looks kind of nervous. "We'll put something on your mouth and hands, yeah? So you won't hurt yourself." 

Just like that, John disappears into the room next door, which is storage? Kaz can't think well beyond the cloud of panic and lust still swirling. But his dick doesn't get hard again, thank God. John would probably smile bright and stick his entire body in the freezer and claim it's necessary. 

"Baby boy," John says. "You didn't start hurting yourself this time! You're improving already." He wasn't even gone for thirty seconds, though, and Kaz was too focused on learning to breathe again this time.

There's two mitten-shaped things and what appears to be a- Kaz gulps. A muzzle. 

The mittens go on first. They're stiff, but Kaz could probably pick up something if it were just the right size. The cups they force his hands into is only kind of uncomfortable, probably because they're too big.

But then, the muzzle. It's not like a dog's. It buckles around the back of his head in a few different areas. It's a constant reminder that he can't speak or use his mouth in any way. Black leathery stuff. Typical bondage gear. It's just a little too big around his cheeks and chin, and his jaw can work minutely.

"You look so handsome in that," John says, and Kaz almost believes him. John lifts him up again, causing the thing in his asshole to shift, and totes him through a few different rooms. Kaz should be keeping stock, but he doesn't. The muzzle and mittens are, in some way, arousing, and his dick begins to stir to life. 

Of course, it isn't long before John notices. But beyond the grin he doesn't say anything. He's dumped in a room obviously decorated for a little boy. For him. There's a life-sized crib, a corner for plushies that looks to have plenty of blankets too, and a large play area. His parents weren't the worst off, but, still, Kaz has never seen anything like this. 

"This is your room!" John says. Setting him down on the plushie pile made his entire digestion system gurgle and swirl the liquids within around, and Kaz realizes that he should be feeling it far more, but he isn't. There's a lot more than he thinks inside him. The- oh, a butt plug- settles into the background, too. He just feels kinda numb.

Watching John pull out puppy training pads over the blankets and gate off the area is, in some way, horrifically humiliating. Kaz wants to cry again. 

"Come on and lie down! This is supposed to be your nap area, not your actual bed, but it should be comfortable enough." It feels far more comfortable than Kaz's old bed, or the bunk slept in at the government holding building. 

Kaz nods. Suddenly, he kind of feels ungrateful. There's weird kinks, yeah, but there's also John who always tells him that it's going to be fine and he supposes that's what really matters. And also really nice beds. Kaz could've ended up at a far worse place.

"Alright, baby. Good night." Kaz's hair is rustled. "Once we get all that stuff outta your system tomorrow, you'll have a nice, long bath."

John walks out, leaving Kaz all by himself, gated in. He's completely helpless without John right now. It's starting to get arousing, in a way that buzzes in the back of his mind. 

Kaz rubs against his crotch, but there's too many layers to feel more than just general pressure. But when he lays on his belly, that pressure increases so much, and he ruts into half-hardness and can't get any further than that. Exhaustion takes over, and he's asleep before he knows it.

*

He dreams of jumping off that bridge. He dreams of making it onto the road, and an unmindful rider completely fucking destroying his body. Then, the buzzing from his skin will finally leave. 

*

Kaz wakes up on his own. Now, under examination, the gate is just above his hip height. It's easily jumped, but Kaz knows better. If he's caught outside, John might patch up that security detail. He stays sitting down. 

He raises a mitten to his muzzle before realizing that his mouth is forced closed, and that he can't actually do anything to release the tension. At least he had a good dream. He bites at the inside of his mouth until he tastes copper. 

There's no way of telling what time it is. And when Kaz goes crawling (he has a feeling about if he's standing and John catches him), trying to scope out the room from inside the pen, he feels a squelch. A warm squelch.

He fucking pissed his diaper. It's still really warm, especially against his balls and ass. The plastic pants (those crinkly things) still look secure, so he lays down and humps the ground. Just like last night, it feels good but unfulfilling, but Kaz doesn't fall asleep in the middle of it. 

And then, he spots a huge stuffed bear. When he crawls over, he realizes it's kind of firm. He straddles it and, wow, there is a difference. This humping, humiliating as it is, feels so good. The butt plug keeps shifting against his prostate teasingly, not enough to come off of. The shame and the pleasure mix together in the bottom of his stomach. 

Wait. No. No. John might get pissed off. And then what kind of punishment would be inflicted on Kaz? He climbs off, half-hard, and does his best to get rid of the boner.

He ends up rocking back and forth, scared of the possible punishment- he needs to lower his chances of being hurt, he needs to, he needs to, he's so scared. The muzzle makes it hard to breath. Maybe it'll choke him. Maybe that'll be the shameful way Kaz dies- asphyxiation due to fetish gear in the middle of a child's room blown up to big size. 

Kaz isn't very big, actually- he's around five foot three or four. Ninety something pounds. He's never broken one hundred, even when he began getting hormones. He’s so fucking helpless.

When the door opens, Kaz disentangles his limbs and sits stock still. He watches John draw near and open the gate. "Alright, baby boy! Today's gonna be a reward day, since you were so good."

Kaz nods. 

"Very, very good. A good boy." Rubs to his head. "Let's get ya cleaned up, hm?"

Kaz nods again. The muzzle gets taken off, and so do the mittens. Kaz breathes a huge breath and feels so, so relieved. 

Again, he's picked up, and taken across the hall into a bathroom. He's seated on the toilet, liquid still sloshing around in him, and John turns on the tap. The butt plug has stopped feeling good now, and now just feels uncomfortable. It won't be taken out anytime soon, though, Kaz surmises. John adds something to the water, which- oh. Bubbles. What an odd detail. Sometimes, Kaz would add shampoo to have a bubble bath, but that was before he was completely out of money and barely had his damned apartment. 

That memory feels just a little overwhelming, so he looks away at the rest of the bathroom. There's a toothbrush in the holder, but it feels like a guest bathroom. Except for the Spiderman themed shampoo, conditioner, body wash- oh God. That's a lot. And presumptuous. Everyone knows the X-Men are cooler. But the gesture is sweet, Kaz supposes. The gesture everywhere is sweet. 

"Say, Kaz? What's your favorite color?" John asks, swishing the water. Maybe to check the temperature?

"Ummmm…" It's a hard question. Something Kaz hasn't thought about for a long time. "What's yours?"

"Hey, don't answer my question with a question. That's rude." John doesn't sound upset, but a lot of people don't sound upset until they start swinging.

"S-sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

The tap water stops. There's a lot of bubbles, and he spots a bottle of bubble bath, too. So much money got spent here, and it makes Kaz really weary. People don't like it when their investments turn south. "Oh, don't worry, sweety. Can't think of one right now?"

Kaz shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry! Here, let's get all this off of you." The pants come off, John letting out a little hum of surprise at how dry they are, and then the second diaper. 

"I don't think you shouldn't had leaked through to these," John muses. "Oh well." He takes off the final one. 

John's face is shocked. Kaz cocks his head.

"You didn't pee all that much," John says. "Um, are you alright? Have you always had problems with the bathroom?"

"No. I'm able to, uh, hold things for a while, though." In fact, his bladder was full to bursting right now. 

"How long?" John's eyes glimmer with curiosity and a bit of lust. Maybe Kaz shouldn't had said that last bit. 

Kaz looks at the bath. God, he wants to escape John’s wanting gaze. "I can usually do it for around twelve hours? But once I had to hold it for an entire day."

"Oh, how come?" More of an aroused look from the man. Fucking piss kink bastard.

But Kaz doesn't want to answer. It's a bad memory. He'd gotten involved with something awful, and-

"Just to see if I could," he mumbles. 

John picks up on the lie right away. He seems pretty good at that. "Oh, if you don't want to talk about it, I won't force you to."

"Sorry." 

"Hey, it's okay- wait, your bladder is swollen. Do you need to go right now?"

"Yes."

John picks up the relatively unused second diaper. "Let's get you in this." 

Kaz lifts his hips just like John wants, and he tapes it in. "Why can't I use the toilet?"

"We're gonna make you not potty trained anymore," John says. He rubs at Kaz's bladder. There's a pressure.

"I don't think I can do that," Kaz whimpers, especially when the pressure increases. A spurt of piss comes out, against Kaz's will. Something in John's expression says, 'Oh, but we will,' and it's terrifying.

Those hands hold him steady, and then one's thumb presses in and doesn't let up. Kaz reaches to tug it off, and then his hands go back to his lap. Can't be bad. He cannot misbehave in any visible way, shape or form. 

"Good boy. Has someone trained you before?" John murmurs. 

"N-no. Just, I just wanna be good for you…" Kaz says. John's eyes blow open at that, and Kaz registers that as a lie that needs repeating to make John happy with him. It's the first one that he doesn't catch, Kaz thinks.

The man presses even harder into Kaz's bladder, and a torrent of piss comes out into the diaper. Kaz wants it to stop, to be over already. He’s literally on top of the toilet. Just let him go.

“Are you having trouble, baby boy?” John asks. He eases off Kaz’s bladder, probably to give him a break. 

Tears spring up, and Kaz whimpers. “Please- I can’t-”

“But you can. You will.” Kaz wants to kill the fucker, just for a second. He starts to rub circles into Kaz’s abdomen as he clenches the toilet seat and prays for this to be over. 

And then John presses down, with the heel of his hand. Kaz chokes on a sob.

And when the piss starts, it doesn't stop. At all. Kaz can't do anything to control it.

Kaz snatches that wrist and holds it close as he doubles over, panting, a mess of tears. He's never pissed in front of anyone else, for as long as he can remember. It's private. Personal. The piss just keeps coming and coming.

"Lovely. Perfect. I understand it was hard- oh, good job, good job!" The diaper comes off again, this time full. "So good. So good for me." A kiss on his forehead, and Kaz somehow doesn't flinch away. He's almost proud of himself for this performance. Tears roll down.

As John tests the water ("Shit. Too cold.") and starts it all over again, Kaz looks down, feeling disgusted. He wants to puke really, really bad. Begging for something he doesn't want is such an awful feeling. But he needs a way out. He needs a way out. This is the only way.

And, maybe, for a second, it was kind of hot. Not the piss- the domination. Kaz shivers.

"So, your favorite color?" Like nothing ever happened. Fuck John.

"I guess, um… Green? But like a turquoise thing. Somewhere in there."

"Lovely." John was minding the water again. Even though the water was gone, most of the bubbles still remained, and only more piled into the bath. 

"What's yours?"

"Navy blue. Goes with everything. And purple."

Kaz had a nice green-turquoise jacket that went well with his forest green eyes. He misses it, a lot. On bad anxiety days, it would make him feel so much better. That being said, he wore it all the time, even in summer. 

"You ready?" John asks. Then he lifts Kaz and places him in the bath. 

In the rather large tub, the bubbles go up to Kaz’s upper arms, almost to his shoulders. It smells like vanilla and sandalwood and it’s not the worst thing in the world. 

"I'll wash your hair real quick," John offers, even though it’s really a statement of intention. He pours a bowl of water over Ketzdin's head, and scrubs shampoo in. 

It feels nice, especially when John rinses it out and puts in conditioner. God, he feels so spoiled. 

Everything else feels fine, Kaz thinks, except for the proximity. Kaz hasn't been this close to someone since before his mother had passed away. 

Well, there's an exception, but Kaz would really rather not think about that. He keeps on giving little flinches every time the man's hands come near, embarrassingly enough. Neither of them comment on it. 

Soon, the conditioner comes out, too, and Kaz looks around. Where's the washcloth? He feels confused, until John takes his face gently and washes it. Then, he travels down to his neck and arms and back. The scrubbing feels rather nice, and Kaz doesn’t remember the last time he had an opportunity to really clean himself. 

"What's your favorite animal?" John asks while he works.

An even harder question. "I really like all animals. I've always wanted a horse, and dogs and cats and mice- and maybe a lizard and a scorpion and a-" He got excited and rambled. Fucking stupid. 

"What if we got a kitty?" 

Kaz's eyes grow wide, before he shoves the happy feeling down. He's obnoxious when he gets happy. "Th-that would be nice."

"Maybe two?" John draws Kaz closer to wash his other side. "Maybe kittens?" 

Kaz nearly squeals, and clenches down on the plug in his ass. He bends over, gasping.

"Kaz?"

"Ah! Sorry! The, um, the-" He points down. "The, the-"

A wide smile crept across John's face. Back to lust. "Oh, the toy? When you get excited, you clamp down on it?" 

"Yeah." But Kaz isn't allowed to get excited. He's even more obnoxious than usual then. Not even his parents liked him when he'd get enthusiastic and overshared.

John points to Kaz’s chest scars, abruptly changing the subject. “Are those sensitive still?”

“Um, no. It’s been a pretty long time since the, um, surgery. I just don’t scar well.” And the final bit of his top half gets washed, with a noticeable gentleness around the nipple area.

John pulls Kaz's feet over the side of the tub and begins to wash them, too. He's paying so much attention, it's frightening. "You don't get excited a lot, I feel?" Oh, never mind about that subject change. Fuck John.

"Do you mean in a sexual way or-" Oh, why didn’t he drop the conversation? Shit like this is so embarrassing, just as much as the damn plug itself.

"No. Not our special playtime." Please, call sex anything other than that- its actual name being preferable, of course. "I mean, when you get something new or someone does something nice."

Neither of those things have occurred in a long, long time. "Not very often, no." 

"You seem unused to it. Maybe I should help you acclimate." John sighs, grabs another washcloth, and begins washing Kaz's groin.

"Uh, why'd you get a second one?" Kaz asks. At home, he didn't even have the one. He would have just hoped shampoo suds running down would be enough.

"Because I'm not going to touch your genitals with who knows what grime. I don't know why I didn't wash you last night." John huffs.

Should Kaz apologize? Just to be on the safe side? He decides to stay silent.

Silence falls as John washes around his anus, the attention making him whimper, and finish scrubbing. Kaz can't remember the last time he felt so clean. John moves some of the bubbles to inspect something. "You wanna play in the water?"

"I- I'm good. But thank you." 

Thankfully, that wasn't rhetorical. "Alright. I can't feed you any solids quite yet, but I'll get some formula and we can watch some TV." 

"Okay." He's lifted out of the tub, and dried off with a huge, fluffy towel. There's no way this towel could be so fluffy.

He's sat again on the closed toilet seat, and John combs through his crimson hair. It's one of the few prides of Kaz's life, spilling down to about the middle of his shoulder blades. "You have gorgeous hair."

"Thank you." 

"And such pretty green eyes. That's super rare, you know?"

"Thank you."

"Such a pretty boy."

'Pretty' flares up that old feeling. The feeling of being forced into clothes he didn't want. Wearing make-up that felt like he was burning his face off for dance recitals. The feeling of looking down at himself and going, 'Who the fuck put me in this body and where's the fuck go back button?'

"Please don't call me pretty."

"Oh."

"Please don't feminize me." He had to ask that so much with his mother. She never listened. She called him by the wrong pronouns on her deathbed. 

"I'm sorry."

John actually seemed to listened. But will he follow through?

There's some rustling behind him at the sink, and then the hairdryer clicked on. A whole other plethora of bad memories surface, including that one time his shitty jilted roommate threw a hairdryer at him and knocked him out. Fucker knew he didn’t have health insurance, so Kaz had to haphazardly navigate concussion recovery. There’s still a scar on his left fucking temple.

"I'm sorry! I can't do hairdryers either!" Kaz spins around, shouting. Was he too loud? 

The contraption from hell is clicked off, and John looks guilty. "I'm sorry. I should start asking about stuff, huh…"

"I'll just tell you. Um, thank you for listening to me," Kaz says. 

John puts a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah. I won't touch anything that's too much of a sore topic. Can I towel off your hair?"

How sweet. Kaz nods, and another towel (he has two towels! So lucky) comes to rub at his hair. 

"I'm worried about you getting cold with all that, that's all." John takes a break from towelling to comb through his hair. "Should we have a talk about triggers and stuff like that tonight?"

'Trigger' reminds him too much of 2015 YouTube. "I thought we were gonna have special playtime or something."

John wheezes, hard. "That sounds so awful; we'll have to find something else to call sex."

"Why not just sex?"

"Because you're my baby boy who doesn't know what that means."

Kaz groans. "That's-"

"Big boy time?"

Kaz snickers into his hand. "I guess. Just not 'special playtime'." 

"Okay. But, uh, I do want to take care of you. And part of that is making you feel safe and happy." John gives a kiss to an exposed part of Kaz's neck and he squeaks in surprise. John, in turn, chuckles and turns Kaz around to pick him up. 

There is absolutely no way John actually cares about his well being like that. This, right here, is a nicety that is only granted so it can be taken away. 

"Now, don't worry about that talk, okay? We'll stop it early if need be, baby," John says. He drops Kaz off on a couch (it just feels expensive, he doesn't need to see the price tag) and strolls into the kitchen. 

The TV in front of them is huge. Like, almost as big as Kaz. He shivers, belatedly- for once, at the temperature. Is he allowed to take the blanket off the back of the couch, though? Would John get upset for covering himself up? He’s buck ass naked here.

"Oh, shi- shoot. You're gonna make a mess on the couch." John almost runs back in, scoops Kaz up, and hurries them down to the changing table room. 

At first, Kaz thought it was just because of a lack of glasses, but most of the room is actually curtained off, about five feet out on either side of Kaz. What does he mean by make a mess?

John comes bustling out and slides a diaper underneath Kaz's ass, then starts to apply baby powder. The scent is quite nostalgic. Finally, he wraps it up and smiles. "All done!"

Kaz nods. "Uh, I got kind of chilly on the couch… Could I wear some clothes?"

"Uh, yeah, let's go to your room." On the way, John keeps patting Kaz's diapered ass, sending weird shockwaves through the article. It's overwhelming, and Kaz grabs his hands around John's neck (where John had placed them the first few lifts until Kaz got the message) and squeezes until they creak. Maybe he'll break something, but that would be problematic in proximity with John.

"Such a handsome boy," John coos, giving him butterfly kisses. The tray is lifted on an adult-sized high chair, and John has gotten him backed into it. 

"Really, I need to move that thing in here. But where?" John stands up and looks around. "Maybe in the middle…"

"What's wrong?" Kaz asks. Should he climb down? John has put him here, so probably not.

"We should put the changing station in here somewhere. Convenience. But, uh, I can do that later during- wait, you'll be in here during naptime. Shiii-oooooot."

That's so weird. "You can say curse words. We're both grown men."

John raises an eyebrow. "Really? Don't talk back to me."

Shit. Shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit Kaz fucked up- "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'm-"

A hand reaches to stroke his cheek, and Kaz flinches away because he's stupid and can't read intentions without seeing fists. "You're so good, I'm not sure I could punish you for anything other than trying to run away! Which, of course, you're not, right?"

"Of course."

"Why not?"

Good question. What does John want to hear? "Because you'll pump so much water in me that I'll become one of those Deviantart inflation drawings."

The reaction is immediate- John cracks up and falls to his knees laughing. "Oh, God. I wouldn't do that again. Not - not after that imagery."

Kaz realizes another reason not to leave, too, right then and there. Sure, he has no dignity, and probably half the reason John wants him is because he pisses, but life was far worse beforehand. He'd only thought of killing himself today, like, three times. A major achievement. 

"And because I've got nothing on the other side," Kaz says to himself. John doesn't hear over his own harsh breathing. 

*

If it gets worse, though, Kaz definitely will bail at the earliest convenience. If it means leaving this house, this realm, or probably both.

"So, uh, would these make you uncomfortable?" John holds up a pair of blue thigh-highs. 

"I don't think so. May I try them on?"

"May I try them on, what?"

"Please. I'm sorry."

Promptly, the stockings get dropped into his lap. They're silk and Kaz makes short work of slipping his legs in. When he stands up in them, they don't make him feel dysphoric.

"I think I like them."

John looks up from digging in Kaz's clothes. "Good! I bought a lot- see, uh… Well… Actually, nevermind."

"Oh! I like that shirt," Kaz says. He points to a dress shirt, dark green. 

John huffs, slightly amused. "Not sure what this is doing in here, either. And it's not for little boys." Apparently, there was a mix-up in the laundry, and literally half of John’s clothes are in the wrong room and he didn’t even notice. Fucking rich people.

"But I'll look so handsome. It'll be like a nightshirt."

John gets up fully, bringing the shirt over. "Baby, I'll want to fuck you if you're wearing something of mine."

Oh. Duh. Kaz is so stupid. He slips it on anyway. He's kind of in the testing part of John's limits. Does he have any self control? Currently, Kaz isn't sure. "Is there an issue with that? I don't mind drinking Daddy's milk."

"I cannot take 'Daddy' seriously after that scandal in '21," John laughs. He likes laughing, far more than Kaz. If he's looking at Kaz, in fact, he's nearly always smiling. It's off-putting.

Still, Kaz strikes a grin at the memory. "Definitely. I don't think parents let their kids call them that anymore." 

A hand strokes his face, and Kaz watches John’s face soften while looking at him. The man is so damned tactile. "I rather enjoy you being with me, Kaz."

"Thank you."

Both hands cup his face. "Have I ever explained to you what would happen if you tried to run away from me?"

"N-no." Oh, God. 

"Well," John begins, "You'd get a spanking to remember. I'd have to give it over the course of a week, you know. It would hurt. I'd enjoy it, of course, but I'd make sure you wouldn't."

"I'm not gonna run."

"Good. Of course, I could give you a spanking anytime, if you ask."

Instinctively, Kaz furrows his eyebrows. Why the fuck would he do that?

John scratches along his cheeks. "What a handsome boy I got. Handsome, handsome."

That's so weird. Kaz furrows his eyebrows further. 

"I love it when you make faces, baby," Gets whispered in his ear, and, oh. 

"I'm sorry. I'll stop-"

"No! I want you to. That's why I said something. If you don't like something, you can frown. If you like something, you can smile." 

Nobody likes his facial expressions. Kaz smiles just a tad and says, "Okay. I'll try."

Obviously, he won't. His face always feels so damn stiff.

*

John's got him leaned into his rather large chest as they watch the news, but as soon as a murder flashes on the screen, John covers his eyes and flips the channel. 

It's the little things like that which really grate on Kaz. It's what one would with a very small child who couldn't comprehend anything.

"We should watch SpongeBob. SpongeBob was my childhood. Isn't it yours, too?"

Kaz curls into the couch, to try to scooch from John a little. Their close proximity is nerve-wracking sometimes. All the time. "My parents though SpongeBob would make me into a gay communist."

A puff of laughter comes from John's mouth onto the back of Kaz's neck. "Well, did it work?"

"Halfway. I'll let you guess which half."

"God, can't imagine growing up without SpongeBob. What did you watch?"

"Veggietales. And, um, I'd always get forced into watching that one Monster High reboot. Never liked Teen Titans."

"You don't like Teen Titans?" John's voice sounds beyond shocked.

"Go. Teen Titans Go. Never watched the original."

"I was about to say we should, but the original is too mature for you."

Kaz tries to shift away further, but he just gets pulled further into John's lap. It makes a sound against the damned diaper, and Ketzdin blushes, hard. 

"I think SpongeBob is fine, though. We'll watch some." John flips through the TV's various inputs until he finds Centralized Streamers (a corporation that compiles shows across all streaming platforms for easy binging purposes), and ends up shelling out ten bucks for the first three seasons, because of some deal where Disney Plus rents out old Nick cartoons to Amazon. In turn, Disney counterfeit merchandise gets cracked down on hard on Amazon Online (and their products don't get bogged down in search results). 

John leans forward at the new intro proudly flaunting SpongeBob SquarePants as a Disney property. "When did that happen?" 

"Six years ago, in '23. Don't you remember?"

Another huff. "What doesn't Disney own?"

"Universal, but there's a prominent theory that they're working together behind the scenes in an oligarchical manner so that we all have to pay more for movies. And they still don't pay their animators."

John seems overwhelmed with Kaz's hyperfixation on corporations, but he doesn't ask anything else. "Uh, interesting."

Kaz tucks his chin on his knees. "Sorry. I didn't mean to talk so much."

"You like business stuff, huh?"

"Corporations. Something I can shake my pitchfork at, scream about on Twitter even though that's a corporation too and using it only gives them more money from advertisements, and then continue to buy their products." Fuck. He did it again. "Sorry. I did it-"

One of John's hands pulls his hair back, and both hands start playing with it. "You're fine. I'd like to learn about what you like. Can I braid your hair?"

A nod, and as John starts combing through with his fingers, he starts to play the show, finally. Kaz has caught parts of episodes, and of course the meme scenes, but sitting down and watching them is foreign. It might be enjoyable, if Kaz didn't feel like astral projecting during every second of the screening. John continues his braiding, and sometimes he gives kisses and sometimes he'll stop completely to watch the scene. 

It's homey and at the beginning of the next episode Kaz realizes that he doesn't deserve this. But he bites his lip and weathers through it. And by weathers he means dissociates hard. Time drifts by, peacefully. Everything's peaceful when everything feels fake. 

*

A little bit later, John prepares some sort of formula, and Kaz has to drink. He supposes John was expecting far more complaining than what actually happened, because Kaz just kind of took it and started suckling. It's a lot to drink all at once- probably two liters or so- but Kaz will just have to manage. Is there even two liters of space left inside him?

It isn't the worst, being cuddled up to John's chest, but what is the worst is how he's being stared at. "Please don't look at me," he mumbles, not quite registering he said it until the sentence was over. 

John turns back to watch SpongeBob.

To be honest, Kaz didn't watch a lot of TV as a kid. His parents were petrified of the effect it would have on their child, and his viewing was incredibly limited and controlled. But his mother got lazy with child rearing once his father died, and gave him a tablet and told him to go hog wild. That was when he was nine.

He kind of misses her still, though. 

Only a few gulps left, so he suckles on the nipple harder, and then- finally- it's all gone. That could've fed him all week, before.

"Good boy!" John leans down and kisses Kaz's forehead. So presumptuous in his touches. Kaz hates that. "I didn't expect you to drink all that right now," he adds, placing the bottle on the table. "Do you want some more?"

Kaz immediately shakes his head. "No, no, that was way more than enough. I'm good." He feels like he's about to puke, and not from anxiety this time. Well, maybe a little, from what he thought John would say when he would see that the bottle wasn't finished. 

"You really didn't have to drink it all. I was gonna put it in the fridge for later. Are you okay?"

Tears start to gather. An awful feeling of acid builds in the back of his throat. "I'm- I'm gonna throw up," he says, sniffling.

John rushes them to the bathroom, and holds Kaz's hair out of the way and soothes him as the meal comes up. It's disgusting, and John brushes his teeth for him afterwards and he drinks a lot of water from a hastily rinsed baby bottle until the grossness in the back of his throat goes away.

*

Back on the couch, Kaz sniffles into the blanket, head resting on John’s thigh, and tries not to shake at the mercy of the hand carding through Kaz’s hair. Does John also have a hair fetish or something? There's too many weird sex things for one man to handle, it feels like.

“You alright there?” John asks.

“Mm-hm.”

He hums, and continues watching the screen until an ad comes up.

“What the fuuu-frick, I paid ten dollars and they still make us sit through ads?” John grumbles.

While Kaz could give a detailed description of the overarching effects of the rise and fall of YouTube, he doesn’t. He just hums a noncommittal, “Oh, that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does. Oh, by the way, if I put something down, are you always gonna eat it until you puke?”

That’s not accurate. “I’ll eat whatever you give me.”

“But, what if you get full?”

Why doesn’t John understand? The guy will get pissed if Kaz doesn’t, right? “I’ll continue eating until it’s gone. I’m not going to waste food.” 

This is something that Kaz would never say, but he’s hoping to stop being a novelty and be forgotten about. When that time comes, it’ll be for the better to eat more, so that skipping meals won’t affect him as much. It’ll be for the better when Kaz escapes. He sure as hell doesn’t want to starve to death in that waiting period. That's the worst way to die- wasting away slowly. The eventual prospect of the crib terrifies him.

“It’s fine if you get full. This doesn’t need to be something that happens every time. It’s more of a waste when it has to come back up, anyway. I’ll have to prep another bottle for you and everything.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

Fingers rub at his chin and lips, but Kaz isn’t sure why. “Forgiven, darling. I was never mad in the first place.”

*

Accurate to John’s word, he prepares another bottle, this one less than half full. Kaz drinks the sweet concoction down slowly. He only has to force himself at the final few gulps.

“Do you need any more?” John asks.

“Do you want me to drink any more?” 

“Not if you’re full.” 

“I am.” 

John rinses out the bottle in the kitchen, and Kaz registers his eyelids starting to droop a little. Guess he got exhausted with all the excitement.

“Shoot, it ran into your naptime,” John says, glancing at a clock. He holds Kaz in a princess carry, like always. Kaz can’t even see the damn clock.

“What time is it?”

“Nap time.” 

Fuck Kaz, he supposes. Kaz doesn’t deserve to have his questions answered. And he doesn’t deserve to be deposited into a warm, soft bed, but that’s what he gets.

“See you soon,” John says, gating him in, walking out the door.

Kaz watches him go, lazily, and then there’s more twinges in his bladder. He needs to go. Again. Usually, he’ll only have to go once a day.

There’s absolutely no fucking way Kaz can wet himself. Realistically speaking, he’ll have to sooner or later, but it’s nice to have control over this. Just one little basic function of the human body.

Kaz holds on until he falls asleep.

*

He probably wakes up about half an hour to an hour later. It was a rather restful nap, he found.

John hasn’t come to pick him up yet, so he sits up and scoots around some. There’s a small stack of books, but a closer inspection yields them to be wooden and for very small children and not in Kaz’s interests whatsoever. 

There’s still the mound of stuffed animals in the corner, spilling across the area (which spans about two king-sized mattresses, length against length). There’s around six different wool blankets, designed for kids but adult sized, and nothing else to entertain himself with. 

Just him and his thoughts.

He briefly debates taking a stuffed animal and squeezing it for comfort, but that’s ruled as stupid and childish, so he shoves them away from his immediate vicinity to remove all temptation. There’s two walls that are padded, but a dresser that isn’t, and Kaz debates smashing his head against that until something gives. Another bad idea to be ditched. He must keep the illusion of relative sanity for as long as possible. 

Resentment broils in his gut, along with the need to piss. It’s horrifically strong, but Kaz can still resist it. He can. 

And then, a really bad thing happened. His arms start to get itchy. 

He has to scratch. There’s no resisting that. He digs in his nails and tries to make it stop and it’s just getting worse but Kaz can’t stop the movement, wait is that blood, John would be upset, but he can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

“Kaz!” Oh, God. Can he just go ten fucking minutes without this whole song and dance playing over again. He still can’t stop.

His hands are gathered up and away and Kaz kind of sees the blood running down but he really sees John’s hasty tugging, hauling him to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” he says as John applies rubbing alcohol and then something else and wraps up his arms in a thick bandage on either side. His shoulders and forearms and fingers get washed, too.

“Is this for attention?” John asks. He sounds genuinely pissed off. The urge to scratch returns.

“I- I- no!” Kaz looks down at his fingers. It feels like there’s a thousand splinters in the fingerprint pads on each one. He scrapes at one with his thumbnail harshly to dislodge them.

“Then why do you keep on hurting yourself?” John asks. 

“It’s-” It’s something Kaz can’t say. Too vulnerable and close. 

John stands above him in the bathroom, waiting for an answer. Would it be easier if Kaz says it’s for attention? No, because John would make sure to give it to him. Is there anything besides the truth he could say to stop this slow torture?

“I’m a recovering alcoholic,” he says. “The urge to drink makes me melt.”

“That’s a lie. I despise liars.”

“Fine. I’m not going to tell you.”

John crouches down in front of the toilet, in Kaz’s line of sight. “Why not?”

He’d meant that to be provoking, not for John’s sympathy. When will the other shoe drop? “Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want you to know.”

“Do you know why I want to know?”

Kaz looks further down into his lap.

“So I can know how to help you. If we know the problem, we can figure out the answer.”

What a load of bullshit. It’s nothing more than passing curiosity, Kax knows. “It can’t be fixed.”

“No?”

“I’ve done this-” Ever since Dad died- “Ever since I can remember. It can’t be fixed.”

“Well, here’s me. Maybe I can help.”

“No,” Kaz mumbles. “I don’t want your help. I don’t want to be fixed. Why isn’t human euthenasia legal?”

A gasp is taken in, appalled. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t care. I’ve always been- why don’t we end this here? I’ll try to stop, and you can breathe easy at night.”

Strong arms lift him. “Okay. Let’s set you up for playtime.”

That shouldn’t have been over so easily. But it won’t actually be over.

*

As he's carried, John's voice whispers, "I know you're lying," again. He thinks he hears 'attention whore'.

*

Deposited in the middle of what’s labelled as his bedroom, a blanket laid down, and Kaz sits down in the middle of it awkwardly.

“Look! You have so many toys,” John says, cheery again, opening a drawer filled with Legos. And another one, with army men, Pokemon figures, Transformers, on and on and on. A little boy’s dream, but it’s not a little boy inhabiting the room, so it’s just a waste of money. “What do you want to play with first?”

Kaz takes the Legos carefully. They’re still in boxes, decorated with whatever creatures came out in Minecraft Update One Dot Thirty Seven, a military base, a Jurassic Park Eight dinosaur theme, and an airplane. Kaz almost makes a choking hazard joke.

The advantage of Legos is that they’re not hard to play with, unlike everything else. Kaz just has to follow the instructions in the little booklet to make it seem like he’s having a blast or something. 

“Okay. There should be snack time in a little while, so keep an eye out for that! I think you'll be able to properly digest solids, anyway,” John says, strolling out the door. Kaz kind of disregards that.

He decides on the dinosaurs then. He’s never been a big Jurassic Park person, but dinosaurs are kind of cool. He opens the box carefully, gingerly sets the instruction booklet down, and scoops out each little bag of plastic bricks.

Like he said, not hard. He makes a clean stack of plastic bags for clean-up, and slowly, carefully, lays the bricks down. It’s alright, he supposes. It keeps his hands busy and, before he knows it, John comes bustling back in. 

“Ready for snack time?” He asks. Kaz whips his head around as soon as he heard the voice- his footsteps were very quiet, and Kaz was concentrated on his work. 

One arm scoops him into the high chair, and he’s buckled in and a tray snaps in place. Kaz is entirely not hungry, but he doesn’t say anything. 

A pack of fruit snacks- organic, the wrapper says- is poured out on top of it. “Tell me if you want something to drink, Kaz,” John says, kneeling to inspect Kaz’s process on the Lego piece. What's so entertaining about it? 

“Alright,” Kaz mumbles, distantly chewing one. Zero appetite. He’s eaten more today, not even counting the meal he threw up, than he would eat in two, usually. It’s really, really hard to swallow.

John stands back up to lean against the wall behind Kaz. “You’re doing well so far,” he comments. “Are you bored at all?”

“No,” Kaz says, attempting to chew another one. They’re so small; but he can’t eat them.

“Are you still full from earlier? That’s fine. I’ll take those,” John says, scooping them up into his palm. Kaz watches miserably as he leaves.

But he’s still strapped into the high chair. Do high chairs usually come with straps? 

It takes about five minutes for John to let him out, and he pats his back and asks if Kaz needs water. It’s given, but Kaz has to sit in John’s lap and have it fed to him and it’s demeaning and when John leaves it’s a blessing. He almost fucking choked when John pressed his thigh into Kaz's diaper, pushing the buttplug into his prostate. But he didn't get hard, mercifully.

He stares at his Legos for a while, then makes some more progress. He’s got one leg of the huge tyrannosaurus rex, complete with all the feathers scientists say they had, when John comes in again.

“You want me to help you?” He says, gesturing at the pieces.

Kaz nods, because he can’t say no, and John sits down and takes the instruction booklet. He flips through it like an animal. That’s why they tear to pieces. 

But he kind of needs it, so he asks, “Could I please see that real quick?”

John tilts it down. It isn’t close enough, though.

“Could I hold it, please?”

“You can’t see it?”

Not this kind of conversation again. Kaz cuts to the chase. “I need glasses to see long distances. Long equals over three or four feet.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” The booklet is handed over, and Kaz scrutinizes it right under his nose as he gathers the correct bricks for the next part. “Would you like to book an appointment? I know a guy. It won’t be embarrassing.”

Kaz shrugs. “I usually get mine from Wal-Mart or something. Haven’t needed to in a while, though, so I forgot my number.”

“Number?”

“For the concentration. There’s a rack where you pick a generic one out. Sometimes, there’s a buy one get one half off, so when I got- Sorry.” Fucking rambling again. Is this what it’s like to be starved for human contact? But he doesn’t like the physicality. What's wrong with him?

“I see. We’ll get you a nice pair or two, though.”

That’s rather kind to offer. Probably won’t happen, though. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Oh, yes- let’s get you changed. You’ve probably been in there for a while, huh?” 

Kaz puts down the pieces and starts trying to line them up when John scoops him up and takes him into the changing room. The restraints don’t come on.

“Alright, let’s see here- you haven’t gone at all.”

Actually, when it became too much earlier, Kaz pissed out enough to make his bladder not hurt. “I peed a little.”

“Not enough. This is another problem. You need to start peeing more. Unless…” John’s smile turns devious. “You’ll get a catheter. Then you won’t even get a choice.”

Kaz makes a grumble and frowns heavily for a second, before fixing his expression into careful neutrality. “I’d really rather not-”

“Then you should pee. Right now. Without my help.” John tapes the diaper back up.

He can’t with an audience. He can’t with a diaper. Definitely not both. But then John steps back and starts talking with someone on the phone.

“Hello! I’m doing well, and so is Kaz. What about you?” And on and on like that.

Until, “Oh, yes, you were right. Poor Kazzy is having such a difficult time going potty. I think I’ll have to pick it up tonight!”

John makes eye contact. “Yes, I’ll make sure to bring his measurements. Or- actually, I think a catheter is a bit much, too… I like your idea more.” Another wicked grin. 

Kaz’s stomach drops. What the fuck is in store for him?

*

"Now, against my better judgement," John says, back in the bedroom, "I'll let you stay out of restraints while I'm gone. I won't be gone for more than an hour, and I'll know if you do anything that you're not allowed to."

Kaz looks down at his dinosaur legs. "Yeah, I won't go outside or hurt myself or- uh, what else am I not supposed to do?"

John kneels down, suddenly, to kiss at Kaz's forehead. It's so damn embarrassing. "No, no, you've got it all. Also, try to go, okay?" 

With a nod, John leaves, and Kaz turns back to the Lego set. Again, cautiously, he builds up the large dinosaur some more. 

*

It isn't really interesting, Kaz finds, but the dinosaur got his tail and some of his chest when John comes back in.

"Good boy!" He exclaims. "Honestly, I was expecting you to try to explore a little." 

Kaz puts down the little bricks he was digging out in order of future usage, and asks, "How would you had known if I slipped out?"

"I just would."

That's not a good answer. Does he have security cameras? Kaz glanced at the corners after nap time, but that doesn't mean there are none in here. "Okay."

"Alright, these little guys will help you go," John says. He has three pills in one hand and a baby bottle filled with water in the other. Kaz opens his mouth helpfully to let the pills in, and drinks down everything.

John's ecstatic when he's done, but his expression twists to one of confusion and searches Kaz's mouth for the pills. "I swallowed," Kaz says around the finger in his mouth.

"I suppose you did. Why are you being so good?" John takes his hand away and wipes it on a paper towel from his pocket. 

Because he wants to lull John into a false state of security before dipping. "Because I don't want that awful enema. Besides, there's literally no point in fighting. You're way bigger and stronger than me."

John nods. "Is that the way you look at it? That I'll hurt you if you don't give me what I want?"

Kaz looks down, not answering. 

"I, um, see…" John says, disappointed, for some reason. Isn't that what he wants to hear from Kaz? "Well, anyway, the pills should've started working by now. They relax the bladder, so pee will come out. A lot of pee right now. It'll be a constant stream."

Kaz nods, and almost jerks away when John starts rubbing at his bladder from the outside. He can feel the piss coming out, but, when Kaz tries to clench, he can't. Nothing can stop it from coming out. 

"Y'know, the toy was supposed to come out tonight. But I don't think it can yet." Kaz hasn't felt any water inside since lunchtime though. But he doesn't complain, just nods.

John continues, gleefully, in a way Kaz hopes is fake, "I don't think your little hole will ever go back to normal! It's been stretched for so long!"

Kaz shivers at the thought, and scooches back to play with- continue setting up the Legos. The diaper feels so much heavier suddenly. 

"You need a change right now, don't you? I think I'll need to bring on the heavy-duty boys," John coos, lifting Kaz up. "It feels so nice to finally go, right? This'll work well for months, and by the time it wears off, those muscles won't be strong enough to do anything." 

Into the changing room table, and Kaz is laid down for another diaper. He's still fucking pissing. It's weird- he can still feel his bladder, but there's no control over it. It just leaks and leaks.

The old diaper gets taken off, the new one comes on, along with powder and whatever else. When he sits up, a gush of piss comes out, making him flinch. The new diaper feels twice as thick as the old one, and the old one wasn't thin at all. He can't close his damn legs, or even get them within three inches of each other.

"How does it feel, baby boy?" John asks, patting his crotch. The pressure is so much more intense.

"Thicker. How am I supposed to walk?"

"Oh, my precious baby boy doesn't know how to stand," John says, rubbing the diaper mound up and down. The feeling makes a heavier stream of piss go in- because Kaz got a little excited? "Does that feel good? Does Kazzy like his diapy?"

Kaz whimpers and almost tries to grab John's wrist, but he doesn't. With the other hand, John creeps into Kaz's open shirt and pulls at a nipple. That makes him sigh a little and get that final bit to half-hard.

"Good boy."

"You aren't gonna let me come again, are you," Kaz says, eyes half-lidded. 

"Well, this'll be a game!" John says, pressing harder into the diaper. "I'll get you stiff, then you can rub against the ground tonight until you come."

Kaz lets out a cry at that. "With just the diaper?"

John's hand leaves his nipple, but only to creep into his diaper and start pushing the plug into his prostate, over and over again. "Yes. It's a mental thing. Association and all that, yes? Maybe we'll get a remote control toy and let it rumble in here for a while."

When he gets fully hard and leaking precum, those hands get taken away, and his diaper is taped up, extra tight. "I suppose I should tell you what I want from you. You can hump the diaper whenever you so please. I want you always half out of your mind with pleasure, squirting the diaper whenever. You'll barely be able to talk. It's so, so hot."

"You want me mindless?" Kaz gasps out, kind of appalled and kind of turned on. Those sorts of things are only hot in fantasies though. John seems to be unable to help himself and teases Kaz's asshole through the material.

"Sometimes. I also like being able to talk to you, see. You're so smart and funny and-" John pressed the plug into his prostate for too long. Kaz comes, really, really hard, screaming and John coos and milks him through it. His vision turns white and the heat feels overwhelming and Jesus he hasn't come like this in a while. 

John doesn't let up once the aftershocks are all over, though. He continues right at the same pace and Kaz screams again and starts trying to jerk away from the stimulation. It's way too much and he's sobbing and dry heaving. "Jjjjjj- Joooo-"

"Love, love, love-" John grinds his own dick, wait when did he take it out, into Kaz's with the diaper between them and he's still pushing the plug into Kaz's prostate and it's so so much and it's not stopping-

And then John peels back his diaper and shoots fucking come buckets into it. Well, not literally, but it's still a lot. And he wraps everything back up like that never happened and God that was kinda hot. Kaz feels half-hard again, and all the stimulation finally, finally ceases. Cum, both his and John's, smears all over his dick and it's gross but it makes him shiver in pleasure somehow still.

"You feeling alright?" John asks. Kaz is completely beyond words, so he nods and tries not to cry but he does anyway. John hugs him close and Kaz almost hugs back, except at this point the only thing holding him back is that he doesn't know how. "I suppose that was better than you doing all that on your own."

They wind up in the living room, in a big armchair. Kaz's face gets pressed into the crook of John's neck, and John kisses his forehead and tells him how good he is. All the constant praise feels like it's rotting his brain, and he wants to go back to his room. It's too much attention. That fucking declaration of love, too- like, the fuck?

"I wanna get back to my Legos," he says, even though he only remotely cares about them because they're ridiculously expensive. 

"Let me hold you for a few more minutes, squirmy boy," John says, even though Kaz is stiff and still in the man's arms. 

*

Kaz starts in on the arms of the dinosaur by the time John comes in again. "Are you hungry?" He asks, crouching down next to him. 

He has to take a minute to really think about it. "No."

"It's not a good idea to feed you after dinnertime," John says, leaning against a toy bin. As in there being multiple toy bins. Fucking rich people. 

Kaz was a fucking rich person, once. His father came from a line of wealthy people dating back to a guy who literally embezzled an entire kingdom over the course of three years. The difference between them and John, though, is that his parents both worked hard. They worked damn hard to increase the fortune, and that meant careful budgeting so, in reality, Kaz never got to enjoy being a rich kid. 

But all the money in the world couldn't stop-

"But, if you do get hungry, I'll feed you, no problems. For tonight. Until we get you on a proper schedule. Does your stomach feel funny at all?" John says, headless of Kaz's thoughts.

No. There's no water sloshing around inside of him. "I think the plug can come out," he says, soft.

"Not 'till tomorrow. Lemme see if you need a change." John's fingers just stick themselves right into Kaz's diaper, feeling around, no permission or warning. "Do you feel like you need a change? Do you feel any pee?"

"Nothing except the cum you shovelled in," Kaz huffs out. That shit is so gross. 

"I'll wipe you down at bedtime," he says. 

"When's that?"

"Bedtime."

"Why am I not allowed to know what time it is?" Despite his best efforts, a tiny whine enters his voice.

"I decide when things happen, not the clock," John says. He sounds kind of short tempered, and it's scary for Kaz. "I'll tell you when to clean up." Then, John leaves the room.

It's eerie to keep a door open, but Kaz does what he's supposed to, despite it. The arms finish, and it's into the head when John comes in, an hour and a half later. 

Kaz keeps on trying not to think about his parents, and he keeps on failing miserably.

"Okay, clean-up time!" John says. Again, he gets on the floor next to Kaz. "Need my help?"

"No, thank you," Kaz says. He begins to pry the top piece off, careful not to scratch the plastic. It's really hard, especially because John's watching him the entire time.

"Uh, don't you want to finish that tomorrow?" John asks, after a tense thirty seconds or so. "We can put it up on the dresser so he'll be safe."

That's an option? Huh. "Uh, sure." 

John picks up the headless dinosaur while Kaz scoops the bricks back into the bags they came from. "Kaz, just put the Legos inside the box."

"Oh. Right." He gingerly begins to scoop them up, but again, John tosses the majority of them in with far too little care. But the job does get faster. 

"These aren't some collector's edition toys," John says. "You can be rough with them. You can toss them against the wall for all I care."

"But they look nice," Kaz whispers, sliding the box on top of the others. "I always break things. I just want them to last." His voice shakes. He doesn't want John to get pissed, but it always seems to happen, no matter what. 

Or it doesn't? 

John's just so hard to read. It's like he's not even human. Kaz kind of realizes that he doesn't register John as human.

He's hauled into John's lap once the drawer shuts. "We'll just buy you new stuff if it breaks."

When he was eight, his mother got him those shitty Monster High reboot dolls, so that he'd be "more like a real girl". He remembers hating them, to the point of tearing off their heads and tying them and their bodies separately to the ceiling fan and being an all around menace. He wasn't allowed to participate in Christmas that winter. 

His father found it funny, though, and ended up giving him a bin of plastic animals a few days afterwards. Overall, not the worst Christmas at his parents, and definitely not the worst holiday he's had.

"Oh. That's really nice of you," Kaz whispers.

John stands up and sits him on the high chair again. No straps, just a higher place to sit. "Let's sort out some pajamas, then we can change you! You wanna watch a movie to help you fall asleep?" 

That's weird. "I'm good, but thank you." 

"You sure?" John asks, tugging off the light blue thigh highs on Kaz, like he can't undress himself. He puts on a pair of purple ones for Kaz instead.

"Purple doesn't go well with my hair," he says without thinking. "Oh. I'm sorry. That was unnecessary to say-"

"I'll keep it in mind for later. You don't like purple?"

"I can sleep in it, but I'd prefer something else during the daytime." Stupid Kaz with his stupid opinions. 

"Okay." The green dress shirt gets tugged off, too, and replaced with a black t-shirt. It almost covers half of the probably purposefully oversized diaper. Utterly embarrassing. "Let's get you changed, and then bedtime!"

Thank God. Finally, he'll be out of this crusty jizz nightmare. Lift, place on changing table, and he raises his hips to assist with taking off the diaper. 

"Good boy, good boy," John murmurs throughout. When everything is taped in place, he asks, "Would you me to play with your wee-"

Kaz sighs heavily, cutting him off. "For God's sake, I know my place here, just call it masturabation."

"You talked back to me." John's voice is quiet and deadly. Kaz's stomach fills with dread. 

"I'm sorry." Kaz sits up and curls into a ball. "Let's just, um, let's go to bed-"

John sits on the table next to him, and when an arm comes out, he shoves himself backwards, covering his head. Another stupid move by a stupid man. There's nothing Kaz can say or do to stop him. He wants to hide in that stupid pile of plushies in the corner, just a little. 

"Are you alright?" John's tone is one of concern. 

"Just tired," he mumbles, letting go of his head in favor of his calves. John has never hit him before. Why is Kaz afraid?

Arms flying towards him is never a good thing, of course. But John can do what he pleases. Kaz just needs to sit here and take it and then he can escape.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles again. 

"You've got a habit of this, you know. Correcting people. Well, attempted, anyway. There's nothing to be corrected."

"Yes. You're right. I'm sorry." Please just let Kaz go.

"We should talk about that soon. And, crap, the whole triggers thing-" 'Soon' sits heavy in Kaz's gut. "For now, though, you wanna get out of hedgehog mode?"

Kaz unfurls himself, but he still tries to sit subtly far away and he's hunched over himself, legs crossed. 

"C'mere." A hand grabs him by the side further away from John and pulls him in so that their sides are touching. The half-embrace stays, winding Kaz's anxiety further. At any moment, the hand could clamp down hard enough to cleave him clean in two, it feels. 

"Look at you. You don't trust me?"

A trick question. If he says no, I don't, that would open up a huge can of worms about how he's a baby and babies are very trusting indeed. If he says yes, I do, that's a very obvious lie. He wants to chew and scratch and tug at himself until he's in pieces, before anyone else can. There isn't an instruction manual to rebuild him.

If he can just resist that urge long enough to be safely inside his room with no prying eyes, he'll be able to do whatever he needs. Just resist it. 

"I've only known you for two days," he says, quietly. 

"Fair. Very fair." John scratches up and down Kaz's back gently. "I'll prove to you that I'm trustworthy. I'm very happy when you tell me you're uncomfortable."

"Why?" Kaz blurts.

"Because I want to make you feel good." Stop fucking saying that. Kaz gets it. "You feeling good makes me feel good, in case you're wondering."

"Aren't you a sadist, too?"

John's voice comes very close to Kaz's ear. "Well, that's why this type of relationship works so well. You choose how I'll be. I guess some control is here. For you to be good or bad."

"Yeah," Kaz says. He wants to ask about going to bed. His eyes kind of glaze over and he dissociates again as John talks about all the intricacies and the chemicals and muscles and whatever else he's on about. 

His mother got on a health binge after his father died. She made him eat nothing but root vegetables one time for like, a week straight on a Facebook post's whim. But she got bored with the weird diet over time, so she ended up filling the refrigerator with things she'd like. Kaz wasn't allowed to touch any of it, though, because she literally was about to cook with that, what the fuck. God, the mixed signals. It's awful to say, but it was quite refreshing in some ways when she died. Spite lead him to spend the entire family fortune, after all, on the one thing she was vehemently against.

"Kaz," John says, distant, "you aren't even listening!" 

His father was also entranced with the human body, but in different ways. He carved a life-sized human once out of scrap wood, and they took out the anatomically correct organs and replaced it with candy for Halloween trick or treaters. They strung lights and hung the organs from trees for extra flavor. Kaz used to play with the small intestine like a snake, with its hundreds of interlocking joints allowing for it to curl up in the abdomen. Some doctor or professor or somebody loved it, and ended up paying tens of thousands of dollars for it. Kaz cried at the time because it was so cool and then it was gone.

"Kaz."

Kaz's mother was vehemently against Kaz having a real scorpion (while on the topic of wood carvings), so, to spite her, Kaz's father carved out a rather large posable scorpion for Christmas one year. A giant fight ensued, and the wooden arachnid and he hid in the closet and he posed the legs and claws to hug him. 

"Kaz!"

Kaz's father always threatened to commit suicide. It was an everyday fight between his parents. When Kaz, being young and not knowing, asked why he didn't do it already, he'd been grounded for a few weeks with nothing to do except curl up under his bed. 

John gets up, but it doesn't really register.

They went through a lot of cats growing up. Kaz's parents never scooped the litter box, so if he didn't, the cats would shit all over the place and his mother would dump them at random farms. Three months after his father died, his mother went on a long, long drive all across town, searching for free kitten signs so she could become a crazy cat lady. Then she got a boyfriend with a snake. The kittens disappeared, one by one. Nowadays, Kaz can't look at snakes. He still sort of misses the small intestine, though.

His hand is plunged into ice suddenly. "Ah! I'm sorry!" He yells, tugging to be freed. 

John stands literal inches away. "Baby boy, did you get in a flashback?" After a few more seconds, his hand is released.

Like in storytelling? "Sorry. I- you started talking about bodies and-" He trails off.

"Didn't your father commit suicide? I'm so sorry for reminding you," he says. That's not the full story, but the pity feels merciful and nice. There might be something good in pity.

"It's fine. I just wanna go to bed."

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight? I'm worried about nightmares now," John offers.

Gross. No. John would probably try to cop a feel all night. "No, thank you. Good night."

*

He dreams of hiding behind the couch following an argument between his parents. He only peaked out because he heard a door slam shut. His mother sobbed, hard. That was the last time he saw his father alive.

*

Kaz wakes up, feeling tiny. He sobs into his arms, and then into a cow plush, feeling awful but probably worse if John were to come in. He's so fucking stupid. He can't think about his parents any more.

These stupid fucking nightmares. Kaz smothers his face with the cow and screams. The sound echoes around the room, but nobody ever comes, thank God. Kaz cusses himself out, mumbling into the cow, as he waits for John to come in and do disgusting acts to him and then act like the good guy. 

*

He wakes up again to John sitting next to him. "I'm sorry. Forgot to offer you a book to read last night. Oh, good morning."

Kaz looks up, blearily. It's usually super hard to make eye contact without his glasses, so he looks back down. If he can't read the face, there's no point in looking. 

"Did you have a nightmare, baby?"

Kaz wants to curl away from the question. "No," he mumbles into the pillow. "I'm still sleepy. Five more minutes?"

"No. We're going to get the butt plug out of you, then breakfast. Then, well, hmm… We'll figure out what you want to do over breakfast, I suppose."

Kaz's limp body gets lifted into the changing room. He's half asleep as the plug comes out. It's relieving, though, to not be stretched like that. He thinks a new diaper comes on, too, but he's just not sure. There's a numbness over his body.

He's seated into a high chair at the breakfast table, next, and he's fed some warm milk through the bottle. It feels nice, and it only serves to make him more sleepy. 

"How long did you stay up last night?" John asks. "This isn't like you."

You don't know me, Kaz wants to say. "Not sure. I kept on waking up and falling back asleep."

"I see. Next time that happens, you can call for me, okay? We'll figure something out together." John sits next to him in a regular chair at the table.

Kaz mumbles out an affirmative, but he won't. That's like defeat.

*

The morning passes in a fog. Nothing really energizes Kaz like what John hopes. It makes Kaz kind of smirk to himself. Naptime ends up getting declared early.

*

Afternoon into evening into nighttime. Snacktimes, washtime, forced intimacy time.

John's seriously got a thing for Kaz's hair. It's ridiculous. His hair feels tangled from the frequent braiding, and it's constantly nosed through in the most obnoxious way possible. 

They're watching some more SpongeBob right now. Kaz would simply love to sit outside of John's lap, but he's not allowed even that. He wants to leave. Some air or something, anything. Anytime he makes Kaz endure his presence just grates on Kaz's anxiety, hard.

"So, how are you liking the show so far?" John asks after a few more episodes. 

"It's funny," Kaz says, because that's what he's supposed to think. People like John would take personal offense to a slightly differentiating opinion. Kaz hasn't been paying attention at all, actually. His dissociative episodes usually emerge in these moments.

John nuzzles his hair again. "Yeah, it sure is. What's your favorite episode?"

Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no. "Maybe the one with the leaf blower? The, uh, Squidward's reactions make the show."

"I see." John kind of sounds disappointed. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired, still. But fine." Is it over for tonight? Kaz refuses to think about how much longer this might go on for. He'd go insane.

An almost yelp emerges as he's tugged back into John's embrace. "You aren't paying attention to the show."

"No, I'm not." Kaz decides to cut the bullshit. "Most of this is for you. I understand that. Let's go to sleep."

"Give me something else, if I demand so much, and tell me what you'd rather watch."

Anything that Kaz would want to watch is going to be labeled as inappropriate, because John is a fucking prude. "I'm just tired. Can we think about this tomorrow?"

Finally, John nods. "Yes."

He carries him into the corner where he's been sleeping, and lays him down. "By the way, replacement screws should be in tomorrow. For the crib. So you'll have an actual place to sleep. You should choose some pals to accompany you, huh?" John gestures to all the plushies in the corners.

"Okay." Kaz hasn't needed a stuffed animal since he was young, when his mother decided to donate them all because twelve was too old. 

"Night, baby boy!" John leaves, with the door open and a night light on. Kaz turns to where he can't see either, nestled in a corner, and sleeps.

*

The days are kind of boring. John takes a step back from the high intensity of the first few days, and the only relief Kaz gets, sexually speaking, is from his own spit-slick hand during the night time or naptime. 

During playtime, Kaz just continuously takes apart and rebuilds the Lego sets. He doesn't think John notices that he isn't very interested in the toys.

Actually, currently, he's working on a Frankenstein monster with airplane parts stuck throughout the dinosaur. He imagines the little Lego people talking about how sexually desirable it is to keep the monster alive, despite its pained cries. That storyline gets very overwhelming very quickly, so Kaz takes a step back and analyzes the build. 

It is kind of like him. Red and green color scheme. In storytelling, red symbolizes passion, but what does green mean again? Jealousy? Greed? That isn't Kaz at all. He gets a weird urge to throw it against the wall and watch the pieces shatter, but it'll make a mess. It won't even be all that satisfying. Kaz rarely gets satisfied. 

The abomination is airborne before Kaz registers it taking flight. It makes a deafening sound against the wall as the hundreds, maybe a thousand or two little pieces fly apart from each other. There's a hint of envy as Kaz watches the mayhem. Okay, maybe a bit of symbolism.

He's started to gather the pieces to divide into their sets when John dashes in. "I- I heard a crash," he says. 

"I accidentally knocked it off the toy bin," Kaz replies, softly. 

John nods and sits, watching Kaz work. "That's a lot of pieces. Was it big?"

Such a childish way of asking. "Maybe a foot and a half tall. Not unimpressive, in my opinion." It was enchanting to watch the pieces fly.

"I see. What was it doing up there?"

Kaz thought hard for a moment for a plausible lie. "I needed it out of the way so I could work on something else. Then I bumped into the bin."

"Ah." Kaz begins to separate the pieces into their individual sets. "Why are you doing that?"

Kaz looks up. "I think I don't want to play with these for the rest of today."

"Can I help?" That's always what John asks. Kaz would rather him not touch the toys, but- wait. They're John's. John paid the money and placed them here. 

"If you want." That's always Kaz's reply. 

Per the usual, John starts tossing the pieces into the bin drawer, which Kaz doesn't like, either. They should go in their boxes so Kaz can keep track of if he loses anything. 

"What do you want to play with next?" John asks, once they're done. There's still unopened toys- most of them are unopened, hell- but Kaz wants to curl in on himself and dissociate for a few hours. 

"C-can I draw?"

Like his father, Kaz likes woodwork. He hasn't seen any of his late father's creations in a while, but they were always inspirational. But his father could just start on a piece, while Kaz had to plan it out religiously on a sheet of paper first. In some storage unit lies sketchbook after sketchbook of concepts, and one little creation next to each one. Kaz always wanted to make a small intestine. 

"Uh, sure. I've got copy paper in my office. C'mon." John lifts him up. 

It'll be the first time Kaz has ever been in John's home office. A few times a week, John has to go out and about, but Kaz figures there's cameras everywhere indoors, so he doesn't take the opportunity to even leave his room. There's no knowing where the bulk of John's riches really come from.

Kaz is placed to sit at the end of the desk. It's probably the only room in the house not Kaz-proofed- for Christ's sake, there's a stapler! What sort of nefarious thing could Kaz do with that? That's sarcasm, for the uninitiated, but it's probably also John's actual thought process, because he's a fucking overreacting idiot.

He's lifted into John's lap a few seconds later, and given a couple pieces of paper and some random assortment of office supplies. John scoots his entire body to the side to work on emails. How dull. 

Kaz debates asking if he's allowed to have reference pictures, but that's kind of stupid, so he just doodles what he sees. John's face gets depicted in pink and blue highlighter. The computer, looming. 

Some other stuff, too, from Kaz's head. A cute kitty, with snow paws and lots of stripes. What he remembers of how a scorpion scuttles. Who knows where the scorpion his father made him ended up. Claws, a stinger. The underside of a tarantula, although the details get too murky and Kaz can't remember them. He'd wanted to go to school to study arachnids, but the prospect of having to dissect them twists his stomach too much.

Some characters from a show he used to watch. Men in crop tops with the chests cut out, in various colors of hair. Odd ghosts with odder abilities. Another season of it got released recently, too, and Kaz hasn't been able to watch the last two. 

Halfway through another drawing of a scorpion, John taps his shoulder. "It's time to make lunch, baby boy. You can keep drawing at the table 'till we eat." Kaz gathers the supplies hastily, and John takes him into the kitchen.

Looking down at his doodles really made Kaz realize how horny he was. Only men, and only in skintight clothes. He isn't brave enough to draw anything below the hips (that he knows that John could access), but Jesus Christ. A hallmark of a shitty sex life, he supposes. 

Of course, nothing to do but draw another one. And then, on the back since he ran out of room, two men kissing. The temptation to draw a dick gets to be too much, so Kaz makes a full body drawing of a thinner man, cute smile, freckles, and a subtly excellent bulge. It's ridiculous, but it makes him hard.

"Oh, what do we have here?" John asks from over his shoulder. He shifts the paper over, and sounds equal parts delighted and appalled. "This is- wow." He flips the sheet over. "Very good."

Kaz should've drawn poorly on purpose. Shit. "Thank you." He never should've suggested this.

"Those men are- well, hmm. Very good, but little boys don't draw bulges like that."

An idea sparks. Kaz turns to face John. "I- I'm so pent up. I can't deal with it anymore."

John takes the bait. "After lunch, then, we'll play a fun game. You'll even get to enjoy it through naptime."

It's probably going to be a butt plug, or maybe something that vibrates. Kaz nods, and his drawing stuff gets pushed to the middle, and he's moved into his high chair. 

Lunch is grilled cheese sandwiches, which Kaz doesn't really mind. John always cooks himself a lot, and he's explained before that most of Kaz's nutrients come from the bottle. He just wants Kaz to have something different. It's rather nice.

Usually, John will nurse him, and then naptime. But, today, they pay a visit to the room where the changing table used to be. There's a few chairs, and John lashes Kaz to one with arms. All his clothes are off, except for the diaper. His knees get tied practically to his ears, leaving him so, so vulnerable. 

"You need big boy time, hmm? I want you to ask for it." John pats his thigh, before removing the diaper. Piss trickles down, but John stops his bladder up with something, and the feeling of his bladder filling shocks him. It shocks him that he could even feel it.

"Please- please play with me," Kaz whimpers. It's embarrassing to ask like that, but he needs some damned relief. Shooting into his diaper doesn't do the trick at all. That night- that first night with the weird liquid that he's like eighty percent sure was laced with an aphrodisiac- completely and utterly ruined him. 

John comes back from behind a curtain. "Do you know what this is?" 

"Yes." It's another butt plug. How unimaginative. It's smaller than the one that got stuck in him previously.

John's gloved fingers prod at his balls, his hole. At this angle, Kaz can see the messy scarring all around his thighs, and the far more surgical line down his taint. 

"Did your surgeon do something in your anus?" John asks, sticking his middle finger in, slowly. There's a lot of lubricant on it.

It's weird. Kaz doesn't remember. He tries to recall the papers detailing what happened to him, but once the recovery time was over, he burned them all. For situations like these- nosy, nosy people. Kaz deserves to do what he wants. "I think- think so. It's, uh, more sensitive."

That makes John perk up. His finger stops entirely. "What do you mean?"

"The surgeon put something in there to simulate a prostate. And, it's more sensitive overall? Like, I used to try butt stuff before, but afterwards, it was like wow." 

John's eyebrows wrinkle together. "You really have no idea what they did to you. What if it was dangerous? You could've been left with something awful for the rest of your life." His finger withdraws entirely, but Kaz is still left in the erotic position. Motherfucker.

Why doesn't John get it? "I needed to get my brain fixed. It helped, a lot. Besides, the risk was worth it." How does the old phrase go? "I'm here for a good time, not a long time."

John breathes out a long, long sigh. "You- agh. How could you-"

Kaz is so damn sick of this conversation. "Desperate people do stupid things. Finger my butthole and stick the butt plug in already."

For once, John lets the matter go with little more than a displeased grunt. He continues stretching him out. It feels alright. 

The thing is, John's silent. Completely silent. Usually, he'd be talking about how good Kaz is, about how lovely Kaz looks as he pants. But the room is completely mute. 

There's few things more terrifying in this situation then John being pissed off. Once, Kaz heard John snap at somebody on the phone. But he was stuck in his highchair, since it was while John was cooking, and he had a horrible panic attack and kept choking on the chicken breast because he couldn't quite keep his sobs in check. John never looked at him for the entire meal. When he was put down for naptime, Kaz broke down into a stuffed cat. But he didn't realize that John was still within earshot, and John sat with him in the naptime area and stroked his back into exhaustion. Kaz doesn't think that John actually knows why it happened.

The weird mood doesn't get lifted as the plug comes in. John unbinds him from the chair, and Kaz gets picked up and toted into the living room. John doesn't even feel up his diaper like usual.

The TV doesn't come on. Kaz is seated a few inches away from John. Weird, weird, weird. Is John about to fucking pummel him into the ground? Kaz isn't sure whether he'd mind or not. 

"Are you desperate here?" John asks lowly, finally.

"What?"

"You said it before. Desperate people do stupid things. Are you desperate?"

"Desperation means I have something I really, really want."

"Oh, my God. Are you desperate to leave my side?"

Shit. Kaz should've done a better job deflecting. Uh, lie? No, since John catches those easily, but maybe a half-truth- "I… Not unless you hurt me worse."

Fucking hell, don't say shit like worse. That'll just send John into his own version of hysterics. "What- do I hurt you?"

"No! I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Kaz curls in on himself, and John doesn't touch him at all. 

"How do I hurt you?" 

"Not at all. It's just me being stupid. I'm always being stupid, you know that. E-everything's fine. I'm not going to run away."

John's voice is rich with concern. "If I do hurt you, will you tell me?"

That's an excellent question. "Probably not."

"How come?"

"If I correct you and you don't actually want to be corrected, you'll get mad. You never like it if I say something contrary." A good answer.

"No. I'll listen. Haven't you been hurt enough? I just want to help."

Kaz blurts it without any abandon. "Why?"

An odd look of tenderness spreads across John's face. "Ever since I saw your face. I'm in love, sweet thing. You look so gorgeous, always."

"It's my personality that's bad," Kaz says. 

"Oh my God, no," John breathes out, a hint of affection on his face. "I- I can't believe something like that. You just need to come out of your shell."

People have always said that. "Oh." It doesn't mean they're right.

"You always restrain yourself from rambling. I love hearing about that weird show you used to watch, or how Costco makes their money. It's so cute."

"It would be annoying," Kaz says, because it would be. Once the novelty runs out. 

"And your little skills! I didn't know I had such a talented artist!" John's back to beaming at him. Paired with his earlier declaration of love, it winds Kaz. People rarely comment on how much they like Kaz's artwork. 

"It's not that important. Besides, if you love someone, shouldn't you not force them to piss into diapers if they don't like it?"

John grabs the hand that he began chewing on and forces it out of his mouth. "Stop that. No. It's… There's a prevailing psychological theory nowadays-"

"Across Dark Web discussion boards and the Disc-Shaped Solar System Twitter Page, undoubtedly-"

John snorts a laugh, then continues. "Well, basically, everyone likes age play, at least a little."

"A little isn't even enough to get me to like it."

"A little is more than enough justification for me. We'll find the right combination of things to do. You'll love giving up control to me."

Kaz kind of already does, sometimes. "Some of it isn't so bad. But some of it is really too much."

"The diapers?"

Kaz nods.

"Those can't come off now. You can't control your bladder. You'd be peeing all over the place."

"How long?" Kaz asks.

"A while. A long, long while." John smiles down, lazily, a tinge of lustful darkness. "But, you know, today, you've been such a good boy. You've asked for big boy time, you've done your best in our discussion- I think you deserve a reward."

Kaz hums. The butt plug presses pleasantly when he shifts his hips. "Ahhh- um, thanks."

"I'll let you pull up any show you like. Even one that might be inappropriate. Don't, uh, abuse that."

A smile tugs at his face as Kaz picks up the remote. The butt plug is small enough to not really hurt or be incessant, but big enough to get him in a really nice spot. John moves into the kitchen to clean up, and Kaz puts on JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, because for some reason the ridiculous outfits get him hot and he supposes now's the time to exploit that.

This- this isn't so bad. Kaz could live with this. Another shift makes more piss leak out from the difference in position.

*

"There's a lot of violence," John says, lounging on the couch. It's right after the best fight scene in the entire season, and John didn't even see it. Kaz has no idea what he's on about.

Kaz hums. "Yeah." It's not a very eventful end of the scene. Oh, wait, an important character's death scene- and he's dead. Kaz turns to ask for some cuddles or something. God, the butt plug removes all his inhibitions, it seems. But he's all horny now and John's just going to have to deal with it. 

The look on John's face is one of horror. "My God, he just got punched through his chest."

"Oh, it's not good yet." Kaz lays down on top of John, lazily grinding the plug in. "Wait till the kid starts sobbing."

"I- I know I said any show, but-"

"Then deal with it. Should I explain what's going on? That'll give more gravity-"

"No." The TV gets turned off. 

Kaz groans out his disappointment, long and slow. "It's naptime anyway, isn't it."

"Yes. Thank God. I'd make it naptime if not. Wait, you need your bottle." 

Kaz crawls into John's lap. "Since I'm being so good, could you jerk me off?"

Another gasp from John. "What- I mean- I guess."

"And did you forget about getting me some glasses? I'd like to see your face."

John puts the nipple to Kaz's mouth. Kaz makes eye contact- at least, he think he does- and licks all around the nipple, even giving it a little nibble. "Please? I want you so bad."

John lets out a groan. It's pretty hot, and Kaz begins suckling the milk out for real. He goes to palm his crotch, but John catches his hand's movement. Beyond hot. Kaz whimpers into the bottle and grinds into John.

"Has that little plug got you worked up like this?" John asks. He sounds a little bothered, too. Good.

An affirmative sound comes out from around the plastic nipple, and Kaz nuzzles into John's hand. This close, he can see the man's face- clearly aroused. It makes Kaz feel nice, too, on a bit of a feedback loop. He slurps the rest of the milk or whatever the fuck out. Some liquid dribbles down, but, like, who the fuck cares? Kaz is about to get some.

"Fuuuuuuuck." John tosses the bottle to the floor. "You are-"

"You said a bad word! Does that mean I get to punish you?" Kaz doesn't feel right. His head is going in two different directions, and the one where he feels like a drunken, high wreck is the one that's controlling everything. What the fuck is in that shit that he's forced to drink?

John pushes him back a little. "K- Kaz, baby. Let's calm down a bit."

Kaz can't calm down. His heart is going and going and he pushes John's hand into his crotch. "I've been good. You promised."

"Alright." John sticks both hands into his pee-soaked diaper. One begins toying with the plug, and the other jerks him off. 

It's a steady pace, and with some special attention to the head, Kaz sighs as he comes. He collapses mostly against John. "You said through nap time? I don't think I'm up for that."

"No. No." John tugs out the plug and sets it on the table. "Let's get you to your bed."

*

Post-nut clarity hits Kaz like a truck.

First off, that motherfucker has to be drugging him somehow. For such a reaction. That reminds him of once, back when Kaz's old awful roommate and he were lovers. That fucker slipped something in Kaz's drink. The reaction was, in fact, the exact same, from then and now. But maybe it won't happen again. Kaz acted like a fucking idiot, so clingy and shit, after all. He scratches the blanket underneath him a little, before deeming the following punishment worth it to start tearing into his arms.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Kaz always acts so fucking stupid. Kaz wants to take that baby bottle and fucking choke on it. The anger feels all-consuming, but- wait- that's not right. Being mad does no good.

Kaz swallows those feelings down, too, into a blue-hot sea of his own hatred. Not hatred, that sounds too Gray-Stu-ish. His doneness, he supposes. But he can't actually do anything whatsoever, except bitch and whine and complain to himself.

Is there any way of getting control? John likes it when Kaz pretends to like being around him. Maybe- exploit that-

Maybe John would let Kaz go outside. Maybe he'd let him go out on his own, when he gets enough trust. Kaz can embezzle like his ancestors before him and then leave to where nobody will find him ever again.

To be in control sounds so, so lovely. Kaz stops scratching his arms before the bleeding starts. The red marks will disappear as he sleeps. The new objective- make John trust him- appears.

*

"Alright. So." John says, lifting Kaz onto the changing table. "We'll be taking you out today."

Kaz nods. It's been about a week since the butt plug incident, and by God Kaz is feeling like a horny wreck again. The only time anything compares was when he first started taking testosterone.

John shuffles through his drawers, and finds a t-shirt. It has a character from JoJo on it, which is a cute touch. Kaz was never into merchandise that much, but it's not like he can say no. The shirt gets tugged over his head. 

As soon as John insisted on a morning shower (both of them, together, Kaz being allowed to stand for once), Kaz knew something was up. But being taken out into town isn't the worst thing in the world.

"Do skirts make you feel dysphoric?" John asks, holding up a pleated gray mini-skirt. It's cute. 

Kaz shrugs. "Let's put it on and see how I feel."

John helps Kaz into it, and stands him up. In the mirror, it doesn't feel feminizing. It's just kind of different.

He turns around and sees exactly how much the overly thick diaper sticks out. "Uh, John, I don't think I can go anywhere like that."

John nods. "I have a far thinner diaper that should work just fine. Skirt or no skirt?"

"Skirt." Kaz practically waddles back to the changing table, and John boosts him up on it. 

"We may have to change your diaper once or twice while we're out and about, but nobody will notice. In my list of kinks, exhibitionism- at least, the potential of someone seeing- is not one of them."

Thank God. "Okay."

"Now, for socks and shoes." John pulls out a pair of tennis shoes, in the colors of the trans flag. It makes Kaz quirk a grin. "I thought these would be cute, but are they too much?"

"Hmm, yeah. With the way I'm dressed, people will read me as a trans girl."

"Ah. That's a tactless way to put it, but I see." John puts the shoes away, and pulls out some lower-key ones, in green and black. "Better?"

Kaz nods. A pair of knee-high socks get chosen, too, and everything gets put on for him. Utterly embarrassing. 

At John's behest, Kaz lies down on the changing table, and his legs get splayed to either side. "Now, let's get you into something more covert."

Kaz hums and nods. The huge diaper comes off, and a significantly smaller one appears. "See? Nobody will know a thing. That's kinda hot."

Another nod. The diaper gets taped up tightly. 

"And, for my final magic trick," John says, opening a drawer, "We have this!" It's almost like a male dance belt, except it opens in the front and can tighten readily. John slips it on and the pressure becomes overwhelming quickly. Kaz pops a boner on the spot.

"Does that feel good?" John asks, teasingly rubbing. He looks at his phone. "Shit! Uh, shoot. We don't have that much longer to get ready." He takes off the belt thingy and diaper, and the release makes Kaz sigh.

John leaves the room for a minute or two, and he comes back with a bowl and something else that Kaz can't see. 

And then Kaz's dick gets fucking iced again. "Ah!"

"I promise, love, I'll make it up to you later," John says. When Kaz's dick has softened again, John slides his dick into something that feels weird. It takes a second to register it as a cock cage. 

Oh, God. The knowledge that he can't get a boner makes his dick try hard, and the sound of John locking it up makes Kaz flush.

"What a handsome little thing," John says, pushing down on his balls. The diaper flies back on, just as tight, and so does the belt, but Kaz doesn't feel much around his dick. He lets out a dry sob. A pair of boxer-briefs, the legs made to not come down far at all, get slipped on, too. In the mirror, there's no weird bulges. Just a slight creativity with the size of his ass. The diaper's been compressed into literal millimeters.

"Love, love, love," John murmurs. "Once we get back home, I'm going to spoil you beyond all reasonable belief."

*

The lack of sensation makes Kaz get hard, and then the only sensation is his dick hurting in the metal, and that makes his dick go soft, and it just repeats over and over. 

"Ahhhhh… Johnnnnn…" Kaz moans, rutting against the seatbelt, even though he can't feel a thing.

A hand grasps Kaz's shoulder. "You're hot as hell, babe, but we're in public now. You need to control yourself."

Control himself. Kaz breathes out, and in, and, bit by bit, he relieves the tension. "Okay. Okay, yeah. It's hard…"

"You're such a good boy. We're almost here. No being horny."

Kaz makes a sound of disappointment, and then John's car pulls into a parking lot. He barely regains control enough to go inside the optometrist's office, his legs somehow not shaking. The arousal almost seems to bolster his confidence.

While John signs him in, along with a few sheets of paperwork, Kaz plays with the hem of his skirt. He hasn't worn one since he was a little boy, and- honestly- it's not as bad as he remembers. The swishy fabric feels kind of nice. Besides, the fact that it helps conceal any weird bumps is also nice. To that end, Kaz has a jacket tied around his waist, too. It's early fall, so he isn't chilly. 

"Alright, sign here," John indicates. 

After the paperwork is over and turned in, John does something on his phone, and Kaz sits awkwardly and watches the room. They're against a wall, so Kaz does feel slightly safer. It's a stupid impulse nowadays, but it's still easier than concentrating on the device keeping his dick forcibly unable to harden.

There's a couple old people, all in nice outfits, and a young couple. One girl giggles as her presumably girlfriend tries on a pair of glasses. It's cute, and Kaz wonders if John expects similar. The more surprising thing is that Kaz wouldn't mind right now. 

The ache from the cock cage remains, and it makes Kaz want to grab John's hand or arm and rest against it. Sexual pleasure makes Kaz clingy, he's found recently. There's something to be said for being isolated for much of one's life. 

"Mr. Holt?" Kaz perks up, and John stands. 

"C'mon, love," John says. 

The eye exam goes well- the optometrist chides John for not taking him sooner, on and on and on. New glasses in a week or two. John has him pick out two different frame styles, which almost blindsides Kaz on account of how expensive they are. John's probably dropped three or four hundred dollars here.

Throughout, Kaz notices John keeping an exceptionally close eye on his movements, like Kaz is stupid enough to run out halfway through. Kaz can't read a sign fifteen feet in front of him. There's no way he'd skip out on free prescription glasses. The ones from Walmart gave him headaches if he wore them for too long.

The appointment only takes about an hour- pretty good time, in Kaz's opinion. 

"There's some errands I need to do," John says with the slightest touch of irritation. They're in the car- an SUV, Kaz thinks, although he doesn't know that much about vehicle breeds. "We should pick you up something to entertain yourself with. Do you like video games?"

Kaz nods excitedly. He grew up with the Nintendo 3DS line of consoles, but he had to sell off all his video gaming stuff to pay the light bill. He still misses his old Fire Emblem files. 

"Cool. Let's get you whatever you want, because we'll be in town for a while." John turns on the engine, since it was starting to get stuffy and he wanted some A/C, and Googles around for directions to a gaming store.  
*

The newest Nintendo product. The Duo Switch- or, as many call it, DS 2: Electric Boogaloo. It's been on the market for three hundred and fifty dollars (but here a like new console sits for three hundred and forty), and has many first and third party games, like Pokemon, Mario, Lego Star Wars, and Fire Emblem. 

And John, the fucking rich guy that he is, doesn't even blink as he says, "Get whatever you want here. As many games as you want. Whatever accessories." He looks kind of clueless in the nerd's den that masquerades as 'Retro Games in the US of A'. It smells like sweat and desperation.

Kaz fucking loads up John's arms with games. The DS 2, of course; Pokemon Moonlight Silver, Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Magvel, Minecraft (although he wouldn't be able to play that for a few days, what with all the updates), and a handful of other games targeting 2010's kid's nostalgia. John, for his part, seems more than happy.

The store clerk looks amused, especially when John whispers loudly, "Do you want any of the toys?". Kaz decides to grab a figure to appease John, and then a second one because he gets a look, and he supposes John wants to support local businesses. 

"Put the boxes on the counter, Kaz," John says, sighing. Kaz nods.

While he's ringing up the games, the clerk gestures for a girl to come over. Kaz doesn't really notice what they're talking about until the girl appears in front of him. "Oh my God- Kaz, right? We went to high school together! I remember you in the anime club- come on back to the back room, I gotta show you something!"

Kaz doesn't remember this girl at all. He'd never succumb to the infernal desire of an anime club, either. But there's some underlying earnesty, so he follows her. John attempts to come along as well, but the clerk shakes his head. John's face seems resigned as Kaz walks on back.

It's the first time he's been alone with somebody else other than John in what must have been a month. Into a storage closet, and the girl says, "Yeah, don't worry, I don't think we went to high school together. Jacob at the front told me your name."

"Wh-what's going on, then?" Kaz doesn't think this is about selling action figures anymore.

"Look. See. Um. You don't seem safe. The guy you're with- um, he obviously makes you uncomfy, and there's that big age difference. I- we can help you."

This could be the way out. "How?" He doesn't want to be too hopeful. It might be a dumb solution-

"We'll call the cops, duh." 

Of course. Kaz doesn't want to explain, but- "You know that new government program?"

The girl looks confused.

"The one where people who attempt suicide and stuff like that get put with people who will supposedly give them one on one attention to help them recover from their self-destructive tendencies." Kaz recounts the pamphlet with a considerable amount of sarcasm.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. You're part of that program?"

"Yeah. They- it's not right. I'm lucky here. There's no regulations surrounding it. I was literally bought. I'm legally bound to John, the guy out there. If you give me over to the cops, I'll bounce right on back to him."

She seems upset. "Oh- you poor thing. I heard that you get your rights stripped away, but-"

"Correct. John could kill me and face no legal consequences, currently." Saying that out loud makes a horrific gravity encompass him. 

"Can I hug you?"

At Kaz's nod, she gathers him up into her arms. "I cannot believe that. You poor, poor thing. I can't- can I take you in? You can come out the back with me right now. You can hide in my house."

She releases him from the hug, and Kaz says, "It'll be a lot more trouble than it's worth. I'll be fine- like I said, I'm lucky to end up with him."

"That's what abusive people will tell you, Kazzy. Here- you're getting a DS 2, right?" She flips open her own and scribbles down a code on some scrap paper. "There's a Miiverse clone on there. Friend me. I- I'm really scared for you. Are you sure you don't want to come with me? I can keep you safe." 

Kaz nods. "I'll be fine." But he gingerly scoops the paper into his jacket pocket, extra careful. He has to keep that away from John.

"You like JoJo, right? Usually, people don't wear those types of shirts just because they look cool," she asks. She pulls down a boxed figure. "Here's our coverup for taking so long. You mentioned this was your favorite character, and I couldn't find it even though I was sure he was in stock." She indicates for the paper with the friend code on it, and she slips it into the packaging. "Here. He might go through your clothes, but he won't see that. Say, do you think he'll buy a second one?" 

Kaz nods, and she pulls out another figure. "He seemed happier the more stuff you pointed out. Materialistic, I imagine. Use that to your advantage, Kazzy." She stacks the second on top of the first, and walks him out. 

John looks fuming. "Sorry!" She calls, from right behind. "He wanted Dio, and I could not for the life of me find him. He says he wants Johnny, too- Jacob, write down "Johnny Figure" underneath requests."

Like what the girl said, John seems happier when he noticed what Kaz was carrying. The two boxes get rung up, too, and they walk out.

"I'm glad you're starting to get into toys! That's good for a boy like you," John says. "Let's get the rest of the errands done."

"A-are you late for anything?" Kaz asks, softly.

John shakes his head. "Nah. Sweet of you to ask, though, love. By the way, you two were in there for a while. What was that about?"

The older man is great at catching him in lies, but not half-truths. "I mentioned Dio being one of my favorite characters, and the girl did not rest until she found him, which was really nice of her."

"Ah. That's the name of a musician, you know."

Kaz isn't sure if there's anybody of the baby boomer generation left, but the word still flits through his mind. "Yeah. I know."

*

Kaz sets up the DS 2 on the SUV Wi-Fi while John goes into the mail office, into random homes, and some other places. Like in the movies, Kaz enters in the friend code and then tears up and chews and swallows the paper, belatedly realizing that there could be nothing in his system, artificial or not, that would be able to digest it. As long as the numbers are indecipherable, though, that's what really matters.

Miiverse is rather cool, Kaz finds. The girl- who calls herself Vance- is really nice. She asks a lot of questions about Kaz, but she backs off when Kaz says he's feeling overwhelmed. Vance tells him to give her his address and any other information when he can, just in case something awful happens and he needs help, but Kaz isn't sure. Is she into him? That's a problem, because he's gay.

The ride goes quickly like that. Kaz plays some Pokemon, too, which is fun. John develops a habit of tilting back Kaz's screen to see what he's doing quickly, and he also imposes a rule of no screen time over two hours. It's what one would do for a child, and the old irritation burns in his gut.

Kaz quickly texts Vance to not text him first, just in case, and to not double text if he doesn't respond. She readily agrees. 

When they get home, John makes a little area on one of his shelves for the DS 2, along with the games. "Ah, I had a library of over fifty games when I was your age," John laments. Kaz thinks he was a 90's kid. 

Kaz sets up the two figures he got, and fiddles with Dio for a while. His mold is really cool, but his paint job kind of sucks. Kaz debates asking John if he could get some acrylic or enamel paint to give the guy new evil life. 

John seems supportive of Kaz's art hobby, but he might not let him do something deemed too dangerous. He strokes Dio's plasticy head and comtemplates.

Now, he has a way out. If John hurts him badly, he can crawl to the DS 2 and text Vance, "911." That's extremely relieving. Plus, he has a friend. Maybe she sees that he'll pay lots of money in her store, but she'll help him if need be. Of course, he can't text her anymore today, so he texted a swift "gb, don't text back" and turned off the console. The swiftness of the message could come across as rude, but she understands.

"How do you like your new toys?" John asks.

Kaz nods. "I'm really happy with Dio." He hands over the figure.

"He seems… um…"

"He was my first anime love." Kaz sighs. "Still one of my favorite characters."

"Does he have to dress like that?"

Aside from the bulge and Dio's ass and how tight the clothes are in general and his seductive face and his incredible build and his thick ass thighs, it's PG. "I still like you more."

John seems relieved. Is that all it takes? "Okay. Speaking of…" He tugs Dio out of Kaz's hands and sticks him on the top of a dresser. "Let's get you out of that cage."

Kaz nods an enthusiastic yes. 

"Did you hate it?"

Another nod. John picks him up. Jesus, what can he bench?

"There's more than one lock, by the way. Only one key has ever been made for each of those. You'd have to cut off your penis to get out."

Kaz shivers, hard. Did John catch onto what Vance and he were talking about? 

John lays him down on the changing table. "Let's see the damage," he says, flipping Kaz's skirt. "Oh. I was expecting more of a pee smell by now."

The diaper held up well. It was pretty heavy by the time Kaz came inside, but it didn't leak. The belt comes off, then the diaper. John quickly puts a new diaper underneath Kaz's ass, a far thicker one, for all the pee dribbling down Kaz's balls. 

When John unlocks Kaz's dick, there's such a feeling of relief. He whines and throws his hands above his head. "John, John, please," Kaz whimpers. 

John pauses. "Who are you calling John?"

"You?"

"Uh, Kaz. My name's not John."

The realization makes Kaz cringe hard and cover his face. "Oh- I'm so, so sorry. I didn't realize."

"You thought my name was John for a month?"

"Y-yeah. I'm-" His boner is gone. "So, what's your name?"

"Jorge," he says. 

Kaz wants to crawl into a hole and stay there. "A-are you mad?" he asks.

"No. It's an honest mistake," John- no, Jorge- says. "Unless you want me to punish you?"

"No, thank you. That completely- hey!" Jorge begins palming Kaz's dick, expertly stroking it. Kaz wonders how much experience Jorge has.

Silence falls across the room, aside from Kaz's soft pants. Jorge sneaks a finger in his asshole, slicked with something Kaz didn't see. He moans as it explores his anus, prodding into his prostate.

The stimulation proves to be too much, and Kaz groans as he comes. Jorge seems to thrust into his hand, and lets out one final sigh.

"I got game, huh?" Jorge asks. Kaz nods. "Also, I swear to God that figure you were playing with is staring daggers in me."

Kaz lets out a string of giggles, and doesn't really move as John cleans and undresses him and puts another pair of thigh-highs and a blue t-shirt on him.

*

"Baby," Jorge says, after Kaz's nap, a day or two later. "You, uh, really like that show, huh." 

Kaz flinches away. Is he going to take away the figures? Kaz likes them a lot. He even unwrapped some of the other toys, so he could make a display. "Y-yeah."

"Well, I'm happy for you!" Jorge hugs Kaz close. "What's, uh, Dio and…"

"Josuke," Kaz says, pointing at the other anime figure. 

"Joe-zook-ay up to?"

Kaz hums. "Um, I'm just- opening up the other stuff. So-" what would Jorge like to hear? "So that they won't be lonely."

"What a sweet, sweet boy." Jorge gives Kaz a sloppy kiss. "I love my boy."

Those words remind him of high school. In sophomore year, he'd made friends with a group of LGBT+ students, and his best friend always said that. 'I love my boy!' Then he'd try to hug him and Kaz would bat him away. It was great, and the most validating thing he'd ever experienced. Kaz hasn't talked to anybody from the group ever since he graduated, though, because it felt like they didn't need him anymore and he lost their contact information when he had to cancel his phone, anyway.

"Ah," Kaz answers, kind of. "D- do you want me to say it back?" God, he should not have said it like that. Or said it at all.

"Of course I would," Jorge replies. "But if you don't feel it yet, then don't."

Kaz holds the Josuke figure in his hands. His little hand catches the fingerpad of Kaz's, and it's almost like they're holding hands. "What is it that you want from me?"

"I want you to be mine. I want to take care of you." Jorge replies immediately. He takes a few more moments, then says, "But I also want you to want to be mine. As time wears on… Maybe this isn't so sustainable."

"Because you spent, like, a thousand dollars on me in one day?"

"No! I've spent far more than that on you, anyway. I mean…" Jorge rubs Kaz's arm. "You tell me that you're uncomfortable, and I really appreciate that. I'd like it if you could trust me with why."

"You want to help this basket case?" Kaz mumbles. Josuke's arm moves fluidly up and down. 

"Of course. Why else would I take you in?"

"To sexually torture me until my mind breaks and I'm a complete needy disaster without you every second of my otherwise miserable life."

"That's what I wanted at first," Jorge says, quietly. "And then I realized you were already broken."

'Haven't you suffered enough?' Rings through Kaz's mind. "That's something an '09 Harry Potter Drarry fic would say."

A snort. "I suppose. But, look at you. You actually smiled the other day. Like, three times. I did that. Me."

Kaz wants to comment, sarcastically, 'Sure, buddy.' But Jorge's joy seems so genuine. So sweet. Maybe Vance is wrong about how it's abusive.

"Yeah. I did."

"I want to make you smile all day, every day."

Kaz mimes throwing up. "Jesus, where are you getting these lines from?"

Jorge points to himself. "'09 Drarry shipper. Guilty as charged."

Kaz completely loses it. He falls on the floor, clutching the figure, and laughs almost until he cries. Why does everything about Jorge's character suddenly make sense now?

"Maybe I can love you back sometime," Kaz says, on a stupid, stupid impulse.

*

"I'm not mad, by the way, just curious. How did you go on thinking that my name was John for so long?"

Kaz thinks hard, rotating Dio's shoulder. Having the figure to fidget with helps with the anxiety that builds up. He's started to bring the guy with him everywhere, in fact. "I guess I only heard 'Jo' and jumped to conclusions. I don't actually remember a lot from that first night." 

"Was it traumatic?" Jorge asks. 

This time, Kaz is definitely avoiding the question, so he mans up and deals with it. "Kinda. Yeah. I really don't like you poking around my butt a lot. Even plugs can be a bit much."

"Good boy!" John smiles. "I'm so glad you're telling me these things. Now, what about it specifically is not good?"

"When it's a very hard plastic. Metal or silicone don't feel so bad, but I know silicone isn't good with most long-term lubricants, and…"

*

It's the best feeling in the world, having a friend. Kaz texts Vance constantly about everything under the sun. He learns about her dogs and her siblings and how much she likes girls. Vance is a comforting presence, and it actually makes him miss high school, just a little. Bigmouth might've struck again, but she doesn't seem to mind. He has a place there.

*

"It's our two-month anniversary, baby!" Jorge almost bounces, which is really funny, considering that he looks like a darker-skinned slightly younger version of Keanu Reeves. Actually, there's gray streaks around his temples. Nevermind. Older. The age difference kind of sinks into the pit of his stomach.

Kaz smiles from his high chair, but he stops himself after a few seconds. 

Their relationship is really hard to define. Jorge wants it to be romantic, but there's also the whole power-imbalance aspect, which puts a damper on Kaz's feelings. But there's definitely sexual activities (one sided, Jorge doesn't let Kaz reciprocate) and there's definitely 'I love you's (one sided, Jorge wishes Kaz would reciprocate). 

Jorge places a cookie on the tray in the high chair. Kaz thinks it's a sugar cookie, like the cheapies from Walmart, but when he bites into it, it's a thousand times better. "God, Jorge, that's so good, thank you," he mumbles into the cookie. Jorge seems amused.

"Are you happy?" Jorge asks. 

That's a tough question. Things have gotten a lot easier, now that Kaz has glasses and can see without everything looking like an Instagram model's background. It's easier to read Jorge's intentions. He's well taken care of, physically speaking, and Jorge is eager to talk him through emotional turmoil. Kaz debates, before a slow nod. 

John hugs him, tight, and whispers in his ear, "I'm so glad. So, so glad, for you being here. I want nothing more than for you to continue to be happy."

Yeah. Yeah. Kaz thinks he can manage that. Two months, and they feel so close. Kaz takes another bite.

*

'Nothing ever goes as planned,' Styx said once in a complete bop, off of their hit concept album 'Paradise Theater'. 'It's a hell of a notion'.

Jorge paces in front of him, Kaz thinks. He has a blindfold on. On the floor, and above a cold wood floor and a few hastily thrown blankets. Thinking about anything else makes the darkness feel slightly less foreboding. 

"Kaz, now, you understand exactly what you did wrong, right?" Three months. Kaz hasn't been punished whatsoever in that time- all his secrets, everything. And then Kaz got caught.

"Yes- uh, can I keep calling you Jorge, or is there something else…? I almost wish we would've drilled this or something-" Shit. Kaz's speciality- word vomit. Served when anxious, piping hot.

"Jorge is fine. Sir if you're really feeling it, but not a requirement. Tell me what you did wrong."

"I masturbated without your approval." The stupidest fucking thing. Kaz completely forgot he isn't allowed any autonomy over his own damn life. 

At least he didn't find out about Vance.

"Using your hands. I said, quite explicitly, you can use your diaper to rub against something, but your hands are strictly forbidden. And- and!- you opened your diaper. Also a big no no."

God. Just tell Kaz what the fuck he has to do. 

"Tell me you understand, Kaz."

"I understand." 

"Good. Now, let's get you situated. We've got a better place than the floor, darling." Jorge pulls back one of those imposing black curtains, the rings making a clinking noise, and hauls Kaz to his feet. Into his arms he goes, kind of a football hold. 

He's deposited onto something leathery. Made to rest on all fours, and he's strapped in, and- shit- a spanking bench. Is he going to get the life whipped out of him?

"Now. This is your first time being punished. So I'll be going light." Jorge strokes Kaz's quivering back. "And afterwards we'll watch something fun and cuddle and everything will be fine."

Everything won't be fine. Jorge underestimates the power of Kaz's grudges. Kaz is a stubborn bastard at heart, when it comes to vendettas. Fuck Hannah, fucking transphobic bitch when he politely corrected her and she huffed and complained so loudly-

Jorge gets up, and that draws Kaz's attention back to the present. There's a heavy clatter on a nearby surface, and Jorge continues his monologue.

"Now, I believe that a disciplinary action should fit the offense. This is not a punishment, for the record. This isn't revenge. This is correcting you, as to reinforce the lesson between right and wrong." Kaz almost barfs at the cliche words. Did Jorge consume more porn or subpar parenting books? Ooh, that's a good one. When he vents to Vance later, he'll have to tell her that one.

Kaz's ass gets popped, once. A cute, light hit, for Kaz to gasp at a little at the shock. 

Then, Jorge begins to rub at Kaz's ass with latex gloves, and squirts some sort of lotion onto it. The feeling of the rather thorough massage does nothing to quell the dread. 

Wait- what the fuck is being mixed into there, if Jorge doesn't even want to touch it with bare skin?

"Good boy," Jorge praises, dipping his fingers and the lotion into his crack. All around his base, his (waxed) balls, up and down his gradually hardening cock and even into the slit a little. Up into his sit spots and the backside and insides of his thighs. 

Kaz shivers at whatever Jorge has planned. 

A toy gets pushed into him a moment later. Long and thin. No preparation, just lubricant (lotion?), but Kaz kind of expected that. It's a punishment, after all.

Jorge seems satisfied with the coverage, and he snaps off the gloves. Then, he drags a chair over to Kaz's head. 

"Hi," Kaz says, to ground himself.

"Hello," Jorge answers. He's definitely close. There's some tapping on plastic- Jorge's phone. What the fuck is the idea here?

Silence permeates for another minute before, almost inexplicably, Kaz's ass begins to heat. Little by little, into his crack, his cock and balls, it feels like- a fire, getting closer and closer-

Shit. That fucking lotion. Whatever it is. Jorge put it on, and now he wants Kaz to fucking marinate in it as he sends e-mails. 

Or maybe he's recording. Maybe, his phone's camera is trained right at Kaz's ass- or maybe his face- and that shit is being livestreamed to Pornhub. Kaz grits his teeth and resolves to keep a stiff upper lip. 

But his entire ass, thighs, dick, inside him, everything- it's all on fire. Kaz begins a whine before quelling himself. 

"Does it hurt?" Jorge asks. His voice sounds sympathetic, but Kaz imagines that his face is contorted in sadistic pleasure. "Poor, poor thing. I'll see what I can do to make you feel better."

Jorge walks over to Kaz's posterior side and, without any fucking preamble, strokes Kaz's dick. It feels pretty good, clearly some technique and experience. If it only didn't feel like he rubbed chili peppers all over it first. Motherfucker. The burn doesn't go away.

"Does that feel good, sweet thing?" Jorge coos in response to a high whine from Kaz. "Does that feel nice?"

That devilish other hand snatches Kaz's balls in a death grip. Kaz makes a sound kind of like a sob and a scream. Let go, let go, let go! That's delicate- "Answer me, Kaz."

"It feels good, please, please-"

"Good boy." His balls get released. "Does your poor, poor, sensitive skin burn?"

"Yeah, Jorge."

"Mm. That doesn't sound pleasant." Jorge lets go of Kaz's dick, and he sighs quietly at the only nice sensation going away. "I read on the packaging that the sensation goes full blast for six hours."

Six hours? Nobody could tolerate that. Least of all Kaz.

"Of course, if you wash it with water, everything feels alright again. But, if there's another coat of the lubricant, oh, honey- even the packaging has no clue!"

Kaz's eyes fly open from behind the blindfold. "Jorge, please, no, no-"

"Look at you, so ready to beg. What's the saying? Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission? Well, I don't like that saying." Jorge snaps on another pair of gloves. The sound sinks dread into Kaz's stomach. "I think we'll skip bathtime tonight. Good thing we bathed beforehand."

A thicker layer of the- the- lubricant gets massaged into Kaz's ass. The same spots, but, this time, his nipples get teased as well. John takes extra special care with his cock. Into the foreskin, probing the slit as much as his thick finger could manage, into where the glans on a cis guy would be. His fucking surgeon made that area more sensitive on purpose, too. 

Kaz has lost all composure at this point. Yelling, begging, jerking away- it just gets worse and worse the more Jorge rubs that shit in. His dick is on fucking fire and completely hard. 

"I think that is sufficient." Jorge stands up and sits back next to Kaz. The gloves get pulled off. "Now, when will you be released? An excellent question. Of course, only when you go soft."

Kaz startles.

"There's still just a little more to go, but that's alright! I'll be patient. God, I don't think I've ever heard you so expressive."

Deep breaths. What's the advice with cis guys? Think of gross stuff. His thoughts immediately go to his mother, gazing up at him from her hospital bed, and the erection begins to fade. Deep breaths, ignore it for a few more minutes. 

"J-Jorge? I, um, I'm soft," Kaz whispers into the quiet dark, after so long.

"Mm-hm. Lovely. Let's proceed." Jorge walks over to his backside, his shoes clicking against the hardwood, and begins to fit- motherfucker. That fucking cock cage. Kaz keans in frustration and tosses his head.

The locks click into place, and a diaper comes on, next. It's just now that the smell of piss really hits him. Jorge better fucking enjoy cleaning that up. And then, that deranged belt from when they went into town, and he hears a little padlock being inserted into that, too. That fucking pressure on his sensitive balls. Not again.

His arms and legs get released, he's sat back on the floor, and the burn gets worse, somehow. It's like he was flogged without the impact, just the lasting pain. He hisses at nothing in particular- can't see Jorge with the blindfold on- and shifts from one asscheek to the other. Even the friction from the diaper hurts. The pressure hurts. Kaz wants it all to stop already.

"Lemme clean up, love, and then you'll be all soothed and ready for bed," Jorge calls. The sound of a spray bottle and cloth rubbing fades into the background.

The last time Kaz was spanked was right before middle school. His mother got pissed because he didn't wash the dishes, but she'd been pissed all week at nothing in particular. Kaz should've expected the arm to force him to be bent over the bed. Back in those days, she had a black leather belt with tons of holes, like a punk kind of get up. A great idea emerged, and when she got in the first strike, Kaz screamed bloody murder, and he didn't stop until she left the room. She never even tried after that. 

His father was a gentle soul. The complete opposite of his fiery mother. When Kaz misbehaved, he'd be sat down and his father would explain why that shouldn't be said or done. His parents always got in arguments over parenting strategies, but Kaz always preferred his father's. 

The memory of his father, smiling gently and comforting Kaz after being screamed at by his mother, blindsides Kaz in the current moment. There's a reason he doesn't-

Sobs begin to emerge. Kaz clamps both hands over his mouth to try to silence the loudness. Maybe, with enough deep breaths, Jorge will only think Kaz is a pussy at worst. When Kaz feels the burn again, it doesn't hurt that badly anymore. 

*

"All done, love! Let's get that off you, now." Jorge lifts the blindfold off Kaz's face, kind of like that first night. Kaz's eyes are just as full of tears, anyway.

"Let's go watch something nice, hmm? Bob Ross sound good?" Jorge ruffles his hair and picks him up. He's just in the diaper, which is the worst. 

Kaz doesn't respond when Jorge drops him on the couch, or when the baby bottle comes near. He gives a few half-hearted sucks when it's pretty much forced into his mouth, but that's it. 

"Quiet tonight? That's okay, love." Kaz stares at the screen, not really comprehending. All the burning pain is shoved in a corner. The humiliation isn't much worse than usual. He lays his head on an arm rest, and the tears flow. 

*

The next morning, when Jorge delivers dry cereal in a bowl that cannot be tipped (because Kaz is an unruly child who has poor motor control, obviously), he says, "By the way, the cage stays on for a week."

Jorge underestimates Kaz's ability to push sensations to the side in favor of thinking about nothing at all. He stares at the stand the TV sits on until Jorge comes in and turns it on. 

"What do you want to watch, baby?" Jorge asks. It takes three repetitions for Kaz to comprehend. 

"Whatever you want," Kaz says. He hasn't touched the food. 

Jorge pulls Kaz into his lap and hand-feeds the cereal into his mouth. "Oh, Kazzy, so lazy." His tone grows darker. "You think you're punishing me? That's not how this works."

Kaz nods. "It's not that. I know how this works."

"Okay. Then why are you ignoring everything?"

A glare gets sent Jorge's way. "Last night was really intense. It's hard for me to get a grip when things are intense."

"Don't lie to me." 

But Kaz isn't lying this time. "I- That's the truth. Are you trying to gaslight me?"

Kaz can't fucking stand it when people try to pull that shit. He can fucking remember what he's said, thanks. It's like what his mother liked to do, to try to make him not transition, or whatever the fuck else. She was fucking awful. Kaz just wants to pummel something at the memory.

"That's lost its meaning, Kaz. But I do believe you now. My apologies." Fucking idiot can't taste liars. Beta tier.

Kaz nods, and stares off into space again.

"What are you thinking about?"

Yeah. Kaz shouldn't think about that woman anymore.

Kaz looks behind him again. "Nothing at all."

*

Things are alright until that night, right before Kaz's bath. It's something he's been eagerly all day, but Jorge wants to make him feel the pain worse first, of course. This- this is why Kaz shouldn't had gotten complacent. 

Jorge sets him up in that room again. A curtain gets pulled back, and the spanking bench reveals itself. Kaz already wants to crawl someplace and hide.

"It won't be as bad as yesterday," Jorge says. It sounds like a promise, but one cannot trust anything Jorge says.

Kaz gets strapped in again, Jorge remembering whatever the fuck gets put in his dick to stop the piss flow this time, and it fucking sucks.

"I didn't put the blindfold on you because this is your first time experiencing- oh, what's the word? Uh, corporal punishment? Yeah. I'm not sure if I'll use much other than my hand, though. And with the state your poor butt is in- does it still burn?" Jorge kneels next to Kaz's face. Being strapped down like this, like an animal about to be dissected alive, is horrifically stressful.

After a beat, Kaz replies, "It still hurts."

"Good." Jorge strolls over to Kaz's backside. He forces his head to stay forwards. Jorge's huge hands begin rubbing at Kaz's ass again, stirring the burn. "Very good. Please, feel free to make as much noise as you please."

From there, Jorge sets up a rhythm of blows- and, by God, it hurts. There's the impact sting, which makes Kaz grit his teeth, and then the building burn, which has Kaz digging his fingernails into his palms in order to stay quiet. Stay impassable. Like that turned out well last time.

His sit spots are heavily targeted, but his entire ass becomes one throb over the course of perhaps fifteen minutes. Jorge hits hard, and he doesn't let up. Unmerciful.

Until he does, and Kaz is allowed a breather. Jorge strokes his sweaty back and says, "Wow! Haven't had a workout like that in a while! My hand stings." 

Think about the state of Kaz's ass, then. Fucking prick. 

"How are you holding up? Noticed you weren't very vocal. Not feeling it that much yet?" 

Kaz can't reveal his fear that he's being filmed and watched. "I'm, uh, I'm feeling it," he says. "It sure hurts. My butt feels like one big bruise."

Jorge meanders next to Kaz. "Hmm. Well, I think we should have another leg of this particular punish- er, disciplinary action. What do you think?"

By now, it's well established that Kaz has a fucking huge mouth, and it strikes again. "I think you'll do whatever you want, no matter what I say."

"Don't backtalk me. You'll be regretting that in a moment." Jorge leaves the room, but comes back a minute later with water. Kaz sucks it down greedily. 

Jorge has a cane, too, in his other hand. Kaz doesn't like the look of it. 

"You ready? This won't last long." Jorge rubs the cane against Kaz's ass, to stir the embers, and then strikes right on Kaz's sit spot. It's obvious Jorge wants this punishment to linger for days. 

A few more swings, making rows up Kaz's ass, and something in him breaks. He collapses against the bench and sobs. "Please, please- J-Jorge- stop-"

"We need to finish this, love." Jorge begins stroking up and down Kaz's back. "It won't be that much longer. You can do it."

He gets back to swinging, and that little break feels like it made everything hurt worse, and Kaz now tries his absolute best to jerk out of the way with every gut-wrenching swoosh of the cane. Finally, it feels like Jorge ran out of room on his ass, but then he starts again on the back of Kaz's thighs and Jesus fucking Christ Kaz screams. 

Finally, finally, fucking miraculously, Jorge leans the cane next to a cabinet, and kneels next to Jaz again. "So good, so good for me, it's over, love. So, so good, taking all that." Kisses decorate Kaz's face.

Tears still pour out, and it's so confusing. He hates it when Jorge pretends like everything's okay after he exacts some awful cruelty. "Leave… leave me alone…" he whispers, voice broken.

"'Leave you alone'? That's a no can do, baby. You look so hurt. I need to soothe. That's what I like- above all else- sweet thing." Jorge unstraps Kaz from the bench, but he doesn't even bother to move at all.

The thing in his dick comes out, the diaper gets hastily put back on, and Kaz is hauled into Jorge's arms. "Guess what, love? It's bath time, and then, maybe a little snack before bed? You love chocolate, right?"

Kaz's heavy gaze fixates on the floor passing them by. "Y-you can just put me to bed. It's not necessary. It's fine."

The words just make Jorge coo and pepper his face with loud kisses again. "It is necessary! You did a great job taking all that, and now you get to be rewarded." He's put on his usual seat, and Jorge gets to work filling the tub.

"Does my special boy want bubbles?" Kaz misses high school. He ended up laying out a year because of his surgery, but- 

"Please don't call me your boy." Please don't ruin those memories. Please. 

"We'll want to discuss that tomorrow," Jorge says. "But I won't for tonight."

The bubble bath is poured in, and Kaz is carried into the tub. He zones out as he's cleaned. Usually, Kaz would pay far more attention, but he just doesn't care anymore. 

Jorge whispers to him all throughout the bath, but the words don't register. He's lifted out and toweled dry, and nothing really registers. 

Pajamas and a fresh diaper comes on, and Kaz still doesn't really feel much of anything. Tuning out the pain means tuning out everything else, too. But memories filter in when nothing else does.

When Kaz was younger, he was absolutely convinced that there were secret cameras everywhere, trying to catch one little slip-up. Later, he'd connect the dots and realize that his parents were too lazy for that, but it greatly impacted his emotional stability in his formative years. Now, in this house, he feels the exact same. He can't do anything without it being closely monitored. He always looks for cameras, and he's never found any, but Jorge is obsessed and pretty intelligent. 

"Are you hungry at all?" Jorge asks. "We did have dinner a bit early, so I don't mind if you want something."

Kaz stares down at his hands. "I'm fine. Thank you." A sniffle still comes up to embarrass him every now and again.

"Okay. Let's do a bedtime story now." Into the crib Kaz goes, and Jorge hums over the library near the door. "Have you ever read Harry Potter?"

Obviously. Only pissy old English teachers refuse Harry Potter. "Yes." 

"Would you like to hear it again?"

"No, thank you." Kaz wants to grab one of his figures and clutch it close. 

"You really are a tricky customer. What if we read about, uh…" Jorge peruses the shelf. "I think we've read all of these. Would you like any encores?"

"Swiss Family Robinson," Kaz answers instantly, because it's one of the few stories that doesn't really have a moral, and it doesn't feel like he's being talked down to.

Jorge slides the book out. "Sounds lovely to me! When you were a kid, actually, what did your parents read to you?"

That seems like such an obvious question to ask, but Jorge hasn't ever posed it before. "Um, my parents never read much to me. Sometimes, my father would sit with me and take me through those art book tutorial things, though."

Jorge sits in his usual chair for reading. "Right before bed?"

"Oh. Whenever." Those old, fond memories get choked out quickly. "I, um, I never had a favorite book when I was younger. 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' wasn't bad, though."

"I see." Jorge opens up the book, holding it for both of them to see. Of course, Kaz never actually gets to sleep because of them or whatever, but he usually fakes getting sleepy so Jorge will leave quicker. 

Later that night, after Jorge leaves, Kaz reaches through a bar to grab one of his figures. Just for a few minutes. Fiddling with the joints is a better coping mechanism then picking at his nails, anyway, ever since Jorge began meticulously trimming them. The character's hair feels a tad too bendy for Kaz's liking, so he puts him back after a few more minutes. If he escapes, that'll probably be the only thing that he misses. 

Jorge hasn't gotten bored of Kaz like what was expected. It's been three months, and the worst that happened was Jorge leaving him in the crib for a couple minutes too long. Which was panic inducing, of course, and Jorge pampered him more than usual that day.

Kaz doesn't get to sleep very easily, actually. He probably lies awake for two or three hours before things can finally shut down. Sometimes, when the buzzing under his skin gets unbearable, Kaz bites into the corner of a blanket. It's wool, or at least feels like it, so the material has completely split apart. It feels perpetually wet. 

Sometimes, he debates sneaking his DS 2 into the bed, but if Jorge were to discover that, he'd be worse than caned. A month of this torture sounds like absolute hell. Kaz wouldn't be able to survive. He'd just fall to pieces.

That's what it feels like now, anyway. Kaz is falling to pieces, and Jorge is having a grand ole time orchestrating it. How many other people has he done this to? Locked in his house and forced to submit to the man's sadistic kinks? Kaz whimpers and shivers. How did those people meet their end?

When will Kaz?

*

"Wakey wakey, baby boy," Jorge coos. It's the same wake-up every day. 

Kaz is utterly terrified at what's going to happen to him today. His ass still fucking hurts from yesterday's abuses. 

They go through the usual routine (Kaz can't text Vance, though, because he's also grounded from his video games), and night falls. And then nothing happens. Jorge just kisses his forehead, squeezes his bulge where the belt and caged cock lie, and says goodnight. 

And the next day. 

And the next day. 

All throughout the week-long punishment, Kaz gets nothing other than a dick that isn't allowed to get hard. The sexual frustration is killing him.

In the afternoon of the final day, after a slightly late lunch, Jorge ties him down to his changing table. "You aren't going to like this," he says, "But I feel like only a little more reinforcement is necessary." 

Kaz's diaper is undone, along with the belt, and his splayed legs can do nothing but quiver as his asshole is stretched. The thing that stops his pee doesn't get put in, though. It dribbles down his balls in a constant stream. "I love preparing you, you know. Sometime soon, maybe I could put something more fun in."

His dick. Jorge wants to fuck him. Honestly, Kaz is just surprised it wasn't mentioned sooner.

A huge dildo emerges from Jorge's side. It's all weird and bumpy and twisty and it's not going to be pleasant. Kaz tries to buck away, but he can't really. More straps emerge from the changing table- one over his waist, and at each thigh, keeping him stretched to the maximum tolerable degree. It's degrading. Kaz is meant to do nothing more than take it.

He squirms and squeals, but it doesn't stop the weird looking head from breaching him. "Ah, Jorge, please," he whispers, begging. 

No respite is given, however, as more and more is pushed in. It must be as thick as that first butt plug. The one that left a constant reminder for days afterwards. But it's so, so much longer, and it just keeps coming and coming. The weird textures only exemplify Kaz's misery. 

Finally, finally, the dildo is seated in. "Love," Jorge says. "This will stay until tonight." The flared base keeps it from going in any further, but it's not meant to stay for a while, Kaz thinks as the diaper comes back on, after the squirted pee gets cleaned up. On every damn clench, a little spurt would come out. 

The belt comes on, too, terribly tight. Even tighter than usual. Jorge purposely left it looser throughout the week so this would feel even worse. 

"Cuuuuute," he says. "I cannot wait until tonight."

*

The dildo makes life fucking awful. 

First off, Kaz's mobility is severely hampered. Severely. With every breath, it feels like the toy gets jolted into a new sensitive spot. Like that, he can't move around very much. Right now, though, it is supposed to be naptime, which means he doesn't need to move. 

But the huge issue here is that it keeps prodding him in every sensitive area possible. All the texture means that it's always a new sensation, which makes it hard to tune out. His dick cannot get hard, too, but that sure as hell doesn't make it not want to try. Kaz wonders if he won't be allowed to come again at the end, like that first night. 

"I can hear you whimpering from outside your room," Jorge says. Kaz didn't hear him come in. "Usually, I wouldn't mind, but you need to nap today. This will make you feel better."

A pacifier. To shut him up. Jorge slips the nipple in Kaz's mouth, and then clicks some connecting ribbons in the back to keep it there. "You can suckle as much as you need to, baby. Oh, you're so cute!" Jorge hugs him close, placing little kisses on his cheeks. "If you need anything, knock."

Jorge stands up out of the nap area and walks out. Kaz whimpers again, but the sound gets almost absorbed by the nipple inside. It is rather soothing, though, to suck on it. He hates it, but the message is obvious- don't take it out. Against his will, he suckles again, and again, until he slips into a slumber.

*

The pacifier hasn't been taken out yet. Even now, in what Kaz internally dubs the torture room.

"You just look so cute! I'll take it off when we need to talk, though," Jorge says when Kaz points to it. "Seems like you like it, too."

Does it have sensors to detect if he's sucking on it? No, because who the fuck would do that. So, what's the tell?

"Now, it's time!" Kaz thinks he spots the ice already. Shit. "I'm gonna lay you down, and you'll just need to take it."

Kaz is placed in the middle of the room, on a mat to protect him from the floor. His hands are put in soft leather cuffs, and the chain leads to under a curtain. When he tests the lead, it's taut. 

His ankles are connected to a rather wide spreader bar, and, with ample pillows to help his positioning, they're lifted up over him. His ass and dick are on full display now. The spreader bar is connected to the chain, probably to keep everything in place. His knees are level with his waistline.

There's not many supplies. Just a large container of lubricant, and nipple clamps, which Jorge wastes no time in putting on him. The ache is easily ignorable. Honestly, ever since the surgery, his nipples have not been that sensitive. 

Belt and diaper come off, leaving Kaz buck ass naked. And then- oh, thank God- the cage comes off. 

"Liked that, huh?" Jorge says, kissing a nearby ankle. "You'll be hating me for a long, long time. Soon." His dick fills in rapidly, assisted by Jorge prodding with the dildo. 

Kaz throws his head back, especially during the crawl of the dildo coming back out. His dick is so fucking hard already. A week does that to a man, he supposes. 

The head pops out, and Kaz lets a sob into the pacifier plastic. Jorge groans at the sound. 

A merciful hand grasps his cock, and two fingers enter him, prodding for his prostate. The friction winds him into an orgasm so, so quickly, and he pants hard. 

"About to come?" Jorge asks. He slips off the pacifier. 

"Yeah- ah!" He's right at that edge- falling over it- 

And Jorge ceases all contact. That orgasm that he had- it just-

Kaz's mind is fractured. He spills come, but it doesn't feel good. It just stopped. Was ripped away from him. 

"You were right, Jorge," Kaz says, after he gets himself together. "I hate you."

Jorge smiles gently and slides the pacifier back in.

*

Kaz stews in his misery that night. The fucking audacity. The whole orgasm control thing has happened, what, three times now? He almost pounds the blanket, but that would make too much noise.

"Are you still up?" Jorge asks. "Thought you fell asleep earlier."

He opens the rolling crib door and takes the pacifier out. "I woke back up," Kaz says glumly.

"You seem aggravated, love," Jorge hums. "Is it because of earlier?"

"Yeah. You, uh, don't have to rub in the lesson further. I know I messed up and that was the, uh, disciplinary action." 'Disciplinary action' in just the lightest coat of sarcasm.

"I imagine not. I don't imagine you've actually come in a week at least, huh? We'll have something special soon, if you're good."

Kaz just feels more apprehension at those words. "But is this whole thing over?"

"Oh! Yes. I just came in here because I thought I heard something. And I heard correct, because you're still up." 

Jorge didn't believe his lie. Of course. 

"It's, um, hard for me to go to sleep sometimes. I've always been an insomniac, even as a kid."

A nod. "You seem wide awake. You wanna do something for a little while? Or we can just hang and talk."

"I don't mind talking." Kaz leans against the bars. His anger kind of burns away. The promise of something nice (since Kaz is always good) eases some of the ache in his balls.

"What would you like to talk about?" Jorge asks, pulling over his usual chair right to where Kaz's back is.

It takes a second to ponder about the center of the cyclone of Kaz's intrusive thoughts. "My parents."

Jorge lets out an affirmative noise. "They've been on your mind?"

"Yeah. It's the whole, uh, treating me like a child thing. They never did that."

"Oh? How were they, then?"

"I, um… My father was convinced I was the next Dali or Picasso or something. When I'd get home from school, he'd have a stretched canvas for me and a painting to make a study of. He never said my work was awful or anything, but it was incredibly stressful." Word vomiting again. Fuck. Kaz can't stop himself from talking, though.

"Were you two close?"

"Uh, not at first. I think I was a trap baby, and my father resented me at first because of that. But he grew to love me, too, especially because I look more like him."

Jorge chuckles. "That wasn't funny. I apologise."

"It kind of was. My father also liked the Smiths a lot. He'd always call me Bigmouth. Whenever I'd ramble- kinda like I'm doing now- he'd say, 'Bigmouth strikes again!' It was embarrassing, but, over time, the song did become my favorite." 

There's a pause. Then, Kaz asks, "Say, uh, you have control of all my estate 'n stuff, right? Could've sworn I read that in the pamphlet."

"Yes?"

"There's a storage unit under my mother's name somewhere. She hated paying bills monthly, so she overpaid it into like two thousand thirty three- but! Anyway! I'd like to get my parent's stuff out and look at it sometime."

Jorge nods. "I'll see what I can do."

A gentle silence laps at the room until Kaz turns, suddenly, and taps Jorge's shoulder. He has to ask. "Hey."

He turns and hums another "Yes?"

"If I get in trouble again or whatever…" 

Jorge stays quiet. Kaz swallows his tears.

"Promise me you won't hold that over my head. Anything else. Just… not my parents." Kaz chokes up on the last line. 

"Of course not- I'd never dream of it, in fact." His hand pats Kaz's cheek. "Do you want to continue talking?"

"I guess. I just… I just miss them a lot. Still. Mom passed when I was, like, fifteen, and our relationship was super rocky. But I sobbed at her funeral. My parents were rich, y'know? But that didn't stop Mom or Dad from- from-"

"Oh, God. Both of them?"

Tears seem to pour. "Yeah. D-Dad always said that he was gonna commit suicide. Once, I, I asked him why he didn't do it already. I didn't know what it was at the time, really. He just got really quiet. He, um, he hung himself afterwards. Like a few weeks later. He stopped talking with my mother and I- and then I heard a thud one night. I saw his body. I saw Mom, too. She just kept hitting him."

Silence swells into the room. Kaz kind of feels like he'd like a hug. 

"Mom had injected some concoction of drugs a couple years later. Right in front of me. Kept on calling me a bad daughter. No matter what the hospital did, they couldn't stop her organs from shutting down. They still have no clue what was actually in her, there was so much. She- she looked at me, on her deathbed, and said that she loved her daughter. The hospital staff were really confused because I passed as male pretty well." A forced chuckle.

Jorge stands up and turns around. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?"

"Y-yeah. I think that'll be for the best."

*

Kaz wakes up in the middle of the night to Jorge sobbing into his hands. "J-Jorge?"

"I've got someone I miss, too. And closure sometimes hurts before it gets better."

For the first time in years, Kaz initiates a hug. He must've caused this by talking about his parents. It's weird, but now that he's actually managed to get revenge and hurt Jorge back, it doesn't feel good. He just wants Jorge to feel better. 

Jorge has kind of stopped being this unpredictable figure of pain and pleasure, sometime in their discussion. 

His quiet sobs feel human. 

His back feels warm. 

"Everybody's got somebody that they miss, Kazzy," Jorge says at Kaz's polite offer of lending an ear, some time later. "But maybe I'll tell you, soon."

***

The two go out, a few weeks after that. To the gaming store, where Vance gushes over him and teaches him to play some old game. Jorge hangs back and watches. He doesn't seem upset at hanging around Cheeto dust particles and spilled Mountain Dew. 

"You need friends, don't you?" Jorge says. Kaz got three new figures, and they swing in a bag next to him. 

"I guess. Wait- like toys, or real people?"

Jorge laughs. "Real people."

"I like Vance. She's always nice to me."

"Mm-hmm." They get in the car. "I've done some thinking. About what you've told me."

"Yeah?"

"I've been absolutely awful to you. This whole cycle," he gestures to the bag, "needs to stop. We need a different system."

"So you'll stop buying me stuff?"

"No! I just- I don't want to buy your love. I should come clean." Jorge starts driving out of the parking lot. "I... knew your father. Back in the day."

"Oh, my God. Like, dating?"

"Yes. He ended up cheating on me and leaving me. Or something like that. Very messy. Never knew what happened to him, but I never quite got over him. And then I saw you. You look just like him. So many of your habits are the same. Ever wonder how I could catch you in a lie? Well, I won't tell you what you do differently, but he did the exact same." Jorge has a fond smile. "He also got my name wrong when we met. He didn't realize it wasn't Joshua until he got me something engraved and I had to correct him."

Kaz chokes on a laugh. 

"And then, I see you on that website. I remembered he had a kid, but, uh, he told me the wrong gender. And then I saw 'Holt', went 'what the fuck', and bought you."

"You sure are emotionally stable. So, what, I'm supposed to be a replacement?"

"No. Not at all, nowadays. At first, though, I wanted to completely decimate you. Make it so you couldn't seek out anybody else. But- your habits are the same, but there's the differences, too. You're far more passionate. You talk more, believe it or not. I realized that you aren't a clone."

Jorge looks right at him for a second. Through him. "It's like, I kinda realized that you aren't this horrific thing that brought me pain. You're human. And you're a completely different, completely unrelated human."

Kaz stares out the window, away from him. "Oh."

"But, uh, for the record, I'm still very attached. Fell right into love for completely different reasons. Do you remember our conversation a couple weeks ago?"

Kaz nods. 

"I was listening to Sting and the Police a day or so afterwards. You know what they said? 'If you love someone, set them free.' So. No more of this age play stuff if you don't want it. I'll do what I was supposed to from the beginning." 

Kaz curls up in the seat. "Which is?"

"Help you recover from past trauma. Help you become a valuable part of the working force or whatever. I shouldn't have selected you just because you share genetic material with an old flame. So, we'll be recalibrating. I'll stop being so damn controlling. For now, not even if you want it."

"Why would I want it?" Kaz said it as a knee-jerk reaction, but, as time has worn on.

"Exactly. Exactly. But, this is gonna require some things from you, too. If I hurt you, you must tell me. If you're uncomfortable or whatever." He pauses for a moment. "Shit. I'm not sure how long it'll take for an actual bed to come in."

Kaz stares out the window. Honestly, the age play stuff- it's not so bad. But there needs to be consent. An actual discussion about boundaries. 

When he says so, Jorge looks shocked. "Oh. You'd like to continue that?"

"Yeah. I actually felt kind of safe for once." Kaz smiles a little. 

"We'll stop it for a week, or maybe longer. I'll set up a guest room, you can live like a normal adult, we'll see what happens. Make sure this is something you like."

Jorge seems nervous instead of his usual unflappable demeanor. Kaz realizes that he'd also been putting up an eminence front. Here, now, there's another glimpse into his humanity. Kaz kind of likes it more. Lima or Stockholm or whatever- it seems like they're improving.

"That's acceptable. Thanks." At a red light, Kaz smiles at Jorge when their eyes meet. His stony face melts. Kaz kind of melts, too. 

His damn big mouth. His inability to keep his opinions to himself. Maybe, that's what saved this whole relationship. What saved Kaz's life.

Kaz almost feels like he has a right to take his place in the human race.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats on getting through it all! I wrote this in two weeks on my phone after a rather awful winter break, so if there's any errors/other suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them! 
> 
> Also, there are not enough actually readable age play fics out there, so I may write something a bit nicer sooner or later.
> 
> Title taken from The Smith's Bigmouth Strikes Again.


End file.
